Schrodinger's Heist
by AnonymousTwit
Summary: A school trip to the mall goes south when a debuting villain seizes the building and takes several hostages. With everyone inside rendered quirkless, tragedy seems inevitable, but U.A.'s students won't give up. Especially when two of them are trapped inside, still fighting to give the heroes the opening they need to save the day. No Pairings. Cussing is censored 'cause I'm a wuss.
1. Catalyst: The Beginning

**Disclaimer: CUSSING IS CENSORED 'CAUSE I'M A WUSS! It's in the summary! I have to say this because people seem to miss that a lot and I don't really benefit from those particular criticisms. **

**I don't mind when other people use curse words, but using them myself gives me anxiety. Like, I can type this word without triggering a panic attack, but even saying the word 'heck', as harmless a word as it is, out loud makes my heart rate absolutely skyrocket and my stomach queasy. Between how strict my mother was with language and only just recently discovering that I really, REALLY need to see a psychiatrist and/or an occupational therapist for a mental evaluation (long story), it's just... Ah, I don't know how to word it. The point is that I can't do it, so I sincerely apologize to those who can't get passed it.**

**I tried censoring a different way this time. Hopefully, it makes it easier to write. :)**

**Anyway, for the rest of you, hello! :D 'Tis me! An unknown idiot! X) And I'm here with what I'm willing to bet will be my longest story yet! **

**I just have to say it. You know how some people get ideas for their fics from their dreams? Well, once upon a time, I used to think that that was simultaneously awesome and hilarious. Who writes stories from their dreams? How does that even work? It kind of seemed ridiculous. **

**And then I had a dream about the basic premise of this story. Like, no joke, the idea for this story is one hundred percent entirely from a dream. I was absolutely thunderstruck. It totally does actually happen! XD**

**The more gritty details were more of my own conscious design, but I have yet to see if it all culminates into something I'm proud of. I'll be honest, this is probably my most ambitious story so far, and thus, one of the hardest for me to write. I've been meticulously planning and laying out everything and I'm really hoping that I don't completely screw everything up. I haven't read a story quite like this (I could have just missed it if it's out there), so I want to do this story justice. **

**Okay, so with that, I really, really hope that you enjoy this. **

**Oh yeah, for new readers, I have a headcannon called the Hero Sense that I use in most of my stories. It basically gives people spidey senses where they can sense incoming danger. Few people are born with it, and even fewer develop it later in life. I plan on writing a fic focused on explaining it and going more in depth about how it works in the future. Anyway, point is that Midoriya and All Might were born with it and at this point in my timeline, Bakugou and Todoroki have developed it. Just so people know what the characters are talking about when 'Hero Sense' is mentioned. It's brief, but the less confusion, the better. **

**Okay, NOW on to the story!**

* * *

A long drawn out breath, the world shrouded in darkness, swaying and rumbling, and time seems to finally catch up to her.

She licks her lips, heart pounding, hands shaking.

She's never felt so alive.

"Ah, this is so exciting." His voice is chipper, as if he were merely strolling into his favorite coffee shop for the first time in months. Eyes alight with child-like glee, he lets out a hardy laugh and stuffs the small blueprint into his pocket. "You would think that someone would have tried something like this sooner, but where's the fun in sitting back and giving someone else the reigns? I've always been a man of action, after all."

He's giddy, the happiest that she's ever seen him, and something warm blossoms within her chest.

A sudden jerk, the large vehicle screeches to a stop, throwing flailing bodies around like rag dolls. Though somewhat frazzled by the unexpected stop, the smile barely leaves his face. "Are we there yet?" he whines tactlessly.

"Just arrived, sir." someone responses from the front.

He's quick to jump to his feet at that, eyes sparkling with energy and joy. "Ah, I can't wait. To be honest, I've been looking forward to this day since the beginning. Haven't you?"

He's looking at her now, hand outstretched and expectant. The doors swing open and sunlight casts over his being like a halo, an angel descending from the heavens. An other-worldly being, born to correct an error that humanity itself could never hope to.

The chosen one. Perfection incarnate. Untouched by nature's greatest folly.

He's beautiful.

"Of course." she breathes.

His manic grin outshines the sun, radiating in all of his glory and splendor. "Then let the games begin."

...

* * *

Jirou wasn't sure if she'd just woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning or if she was just acknowledging the pattern, but the fact that it had been at least two or three hours since her class left school grounds and nothing catastrophic had happened yet was starting to make her slightly paranoid.

She snorted to herself at the thought, fiddling with the straw of her chocolate milkshake and leaning back in her chair to stare up at the busy second story of the mall. In all honesty, Jirou couldn't remember the last time that the entire heroics course went on an outing all together, if they ever did, but she would argue that after the sudden bombardment of tests on non-verbal communication that had hit both classes recently, they all deserved a break.

Thankfully, it was comfortably warm that day, the late summer sun giving way to cool breezes and a myriad of colorful flowers. The newly planted cherry blossom trees around the school were still in bloom, painting the campus a soft shade of pink. Jirou couldn't help but laugh at the memory of her classmates and the other hero class running outside yesterday to enjoy the view that morning and Uraraka deciding that it would be a fantastic idea to scoop up a handful of fallen petals and rub them into Bakugou's hair. She and Kaminari barely lived to tell the tale, the latter after clutching his hands together with an exaggerated sparkle in his eye and cooing about how adorable he looked.

Such an idiot.

"Jirou?" Yaoyorozu's voice cut through her thought process, laced with concern. "Are you alright? You seem to be spacing out."

To Jirou's left, Kouda hummed in agreement, loudly sucking on the straw in his own cup. Across the table, Yaoyorozu leaned back into her seat, seemingly straightening out the napkin she'd pointlessly spread across her lap before her eyes fell back on her punk friend. Jirou smirked, gaze shifting off to the side.

Even though it was still relatively early in the morning, it was already starting to get crowded, people shuffling around the little mall cafe that the three of them had decided to stop by. It was an excessively pricy one, which wasn't surprising considering that it was one of Yaoyorozu's favorites, but Jirou still had to admit that they sold some decent stuff. She was pretty sure there was a light taste of some kind of mint in her milkshake that actually complimented it really well and this was some of the best whipped cream she'd ever had in her entire life.

"I'm good." she finally responded. "Just thinking is all."

"About what?" Yaoyorozu asked, sipping her tea.

Jirou shrugged. "You know, just stuff. Nothing important."

There was a beat of silence before Yaoyorozu nodded. "Okay, if you're sure..." She cleared her throat before turning to Kouda, who was enjoying his drink in silence. "Anyway, Kouda, as I was saying, I was thinking that perhaps it would be both an educational and enjoyable experience if you would help me tutor everyone for this upcoming test. Considering that you use JSL daily, you are the most qualified among us to teach it."

Kouda shrugged bashfully, his cheeks turning a slight rosy tint as he lightly itched at them. Jirou smiled. "I'd be all for that. I think you could teach us a lot, without the headaches and excessive physical abuse."

Yaoyorozu nearly spat her drink. "Excuse me?"

"Kaminari invited me to study with the 'Bakusquad' the other day." Jirou explained. "Apparently, Bakugou's also fluent in JSL, and none of them have any clue as to why or how. At this point, I should just expect it."

Yaoyorozu hummed in amusement. "He does seem to be a man of many talents, doesn't he?"

"Dude, at least half the class actually flipped their sh*t when he didn't already know morse code after the last test had been announced. So many bets were lost that day."

Jirou couldn't help but grin as Yaoyorozu and Kouda laughed jovially, knowing looks in their shining eyes. By this point, everyone in their class expected some kind of antics or shenanigans to be happening somewhere in Heights Alliance. It's just fact.

Iida still had yet to truly accept said fact, but he was getting there. Aizawa certainly had, though Jirou was convinced that he was just drowning his sorrows in coffee and alcohol to deal with them nowadays.

A happy grin still lighting up her face, Yaoyorozu reached for her buzzing cellphone in one fluid, graceful motion, peering at the glowing screen with interest. Jirou hadn't been aware that Yaoyorozu's face could get any brighter until she looked back up. "Neither of you have bought anything yet, right?"

Jirou raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no? Just browsing so far."

The creation quirk user became giddy. "I just got a text from Hagakure. Apparently, she and all of the girls from the other class are all going clothes shopping together at some of the nicer stores and wanted to know where we were! Shall we join them?"

Jirou glanced over at Kouda, wringing his hands and staring up at the ceiling in a nervous fashion with a smile on his face. Jirou smirked. "I don't see why not. You coming Kouda? I'm sure no one will mind."

Kouda's eyes quickly snapped to her, a smile on his face as he nodded his head.

Finishing their treats and vacating their table, it wasn't long before the trio was traversing through the mall, easily maneuvering around the civilians around them. Considering Jirou's line of work, it felt both odd and incredibly uplifting to see so many happy families and friends enjoying themselves that morning. Just to her right, she could see a family of four window shopping by a toy store, while two friends were playing with some masks in a merch shop. Unless Jirou was seeing things, she was pretty sure that she saw a burst of green curls poking out somewhere in the back of that store.

Down the way, couples could be seen sitting around a fountain in their own respective little worlds, partaking in cheesy couple-y things like cuddles and hand holding and it was honestly some of the mushiest displays of romance that she'd seen in a long time. It was almost comical. What actually was comical was when some rowdy little boy decided that he wanted to go swimming and leaped straight into the fountain, splashing a couple that was about to kiss. Jirou had to fight herself to not laugh out loud as the mother ran over, yanked her kid out, and profusely apologized to the thankfully easygoing pair.

The world was full of strange and entertaining people. In class, Jirou herself sat between the world's most charming idiot and the angriest person alive, so she could rant for hours about that. H*ll, just look at her entire class, _and_ her teachers.

In her peaceful, relaxed musings, she'd almost completely forgotten that small speck of suspicion that had been festering in her gut all morning.

_**BZZZZT!**_

Jirou hadn't jumped so hard in her life as when a sign suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree and immediately exploded in a spray of sparks. Yaoyorozu's own scream was nearly drowned out by the crowd around them scattering at the unexpected light show. Rubbing her now throbbing temples, Jirou watched with fascination as a chubby, older gentleman came running out of the shop entrance under the sparking sign and quickly shut it off.

"Sorry!" he yelled. "Sorry, sorry! Everything's fine! You can move right along!" In fluid, expert movements, the broken parts of the now unlit sign were removed faster than Jirou had ever seen a technician fix anything ever. He then quickly scurried back into the store.

Jirou peered up at the broken sign, HAMURO ELECTRONIKO screaming back at her in bright bold letters. The store itself looked small from where she was standing, but from the looks of it, there were more kinds and pieces of technology in there than Jirou could fully comprehend. It also had a surprisingly stylish color scheme and complimented the furniture used quite well.

"Are you two alright?" Yaoyorozu's voice suddenly flooded back into Jirou's senses, alerting her to her two companions. Kouda seemed to still be quite shell shocked from the sudden light show.

"I'm fine." Jirou shrugged, still looking at the store with interest. From here, she could make out the man and a smaller person running around the store with energy that she could only ever dream of having with excited screaming and frantic attempts at organization.

Jirou would never be able to explain the sudden sense of curiosity that overtook her in that moment, but almost like divine intervention, it may have just gotten the better of her.

"I kinda want to see what's in there." Jirou admitted aloud, stretching to get a better few of the shop inside.

Yaoyorozu and Kouda both gave her odd looks, Kouda shaking his head wildly while Yaoyorozu laughed nervously. "I don't know about that. Perhaps some other time?"

Jirou stared up at the store in contemplation, pressing her lips together in thought. With a sigh and a click of her tongue, she made up her mind. "The place you guys are going is the clothing store by the entrance, right?"

"Um, yes, I believe so."

"You guys can go ahead of me and I'll meet you there, okay? I _really_ wanna check this place out."

Kouda simply stayed quiet, as per usual, looking up at the shop nervously. Giving Yaoyorozu a nod, they both sighed, Yaoyorozu with a smile. "Okay, if you're sure. Be careful, alright? Call me if something happens or you need anything."

"'Course."

With one final nod from her friends, Jirou was left alone, standing in front of the bizarre electronics shop to explore for herself. For some unexplainable reason, she almost felt excited.

Minus the muffled crashing in what Jirou could only assume was a backroom, the store had gone quiet by the time she stepped foot into the establishment. The walls were dark shades of purple and black with tasteful splashes of color strewn about and the shelves were stacked to the brim with different electronics and equipment, from toy drones and race cars to night lights and even stuff that wasn't electronic at all, such as telescopes and binoculars.

She felt her heart skip a beat as soon as her eyes landed on a selection of MP3 players. Considering that they'd fallen out of popularity back in the _pre-quirk_ era, she was stunned that they still existed at all, much less were still being manufactured _anywhere_. She was pretty sure there was even an ipod somewhere in the mix. Eyes scanning the store, she could also see old flip phones and bulky laptops for sale as well.

So, it seemed that this was more of an antique shop than anything.

She jumped when the door to the backroom suddenly slammed open, a small figure stumbling out with a pile of boxes balanced haphazardly in their arms and what looked like a live hamster sitting at the top. A flurry of gibberish was flying out of their mouth as their sneaker hit the edge of a rug just right to send them toppling to the ground with a tremendous thud. Jirou approached cautiously, looking over the new arrival with interest.

The first thing that screamed back at her was the bright neon orange of the girl's hair, excessively curly with a haircut that was asking to know where the manager was. The kid couldn't be any older than thirteen, with giant obnoxious thick-lens glasses and a light open front sweater covering up what almost looked like a school uniform.

Long story short, this kid couldn't look more like a stereotypical nerd even if she tried.

Shaking her head and seemingly unaffected by her tumble, the girl seemed to finally notice Jirou's presence as she reached for a box that fell under a display and the hamster hopped onto her shoulder, her eyes widening in surprise before she suddenly attempted to scramble to her feet.

"Hi, I'm-!" she immediately hit her head against the bottom of the table, knocking over several old-school hand held gaming consoles and an entire display of batteries. Rubbing at her already uncontrollable hair, she shot to her feet.

"Are you okay?" Jirou asked warily.

"Oh, I'm fine! Just fine!" the girl cheered, her smile so sincere that it hurt. She ran behind the counter, the hamster now on her head and whining as it bounced around and hung on for dear life, and rummaged around until she found an oversized apron with the store's logo plastered on the front. "I may not look like it, but I can take a hit! But nevermind that, welcome to Hamuro Electroniko! How may I help you?"

Jirou took a moment to ground herself after the whirlwind that was whatever this kid was had calmed down. She simply shrugged. "I'm good for now. Just looking around. I didn't even know that this store existed."

"Ah, I thought you seemed unfamiliar." the girl mused. "We've been here for awhile, but don't get very many customers, and the ones we do get are pretty loyal and drop by a lot, to browse if nothing else, so I've gotten to know most of them."

Jirou hummed in acknowledgment, continuing to explore the little store with interest. "How long have you worked here then?"

The girl's smile was nearly blinding. "Almost as long as it's existed. My uncle owns the shop and I'm one of the only people in the family who wants to help out. He's the guy that went out to keep the sign from exploding."

Jirou snerked despite herself. "Seems like an interesting guy."

The girl giggled. "He can be quirky. He loves inventing and programming and viruses and stuff like that, but he loves electronics and antiques even more and wanted to share that love with the world, so he opened this store! His wife is super rich, so she's kinda the breadwinner in the house while he does this. They're both super smart!"

Jirou found herself smiling as she continued to walk around, discovering an almost contagious excitement from the girl's bubbly nature. "I imagine you're close?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"What's your name by the way?"

"Oh!" she suddenly scurried back, dusting off her apron and bowing. "My name is Hamuro Mika, and this little guy," She plucked the hamster from her head. "Is my super genius hamster, Ham! It's nice to meet you, miss!"

"Mika?" Jirou laughed. "Huh. That's my mom's name."

"Oh, really? That's so cool!" Hamuro squealed. "My mom thought it was a cute name, but my aunt's a huge fan of Jirou Mika's music, so she tells me that I was named after her."

Jirou's jaw nearly dropped to the floor, a light flush creeping over her face. "I..." she stuttered. "Oh... Wow, uh-."

"Mika!" a new voice called from the doorway, drawing both girls' attention. Jirou immediately recognized the man from before, gesturing at the floor in exasperation. "This is no state to leave the store in! Especially when there are new customers!"

Looking at the still messy floors and messed up displays, it was Hamuro's turn to blush. "Oops! I got it!"

Shaking his head fondly, the store owner stepped behind the counter. "Sorry about the disarray, young lady. We've been making some modifications to the store and things are a bit hectic at the moment."

"It's fine." Jirou waved him off easily, rubbing at the back of her neck. "If anything, it seems like you guys are enjoying yourselves."

"Heh. I suppose. It's honest work, following your passion despite what the rest of the family's doing."

"I can relate to that on a personal level." Jirou mused. "I'm from a family of musicians, but I'm studying to be a pro hero."

There was another crash and a yelp from somewhere else in the store, Hamuro's uncle revealing a knowing smile. "You don't say."

Hamuro reappeared in a flash, nearly tripping over herself and catching Jirou's arm to regain her balance. "You're a hero-in-training!? Where do you study?! What are classes like?! And your classmates?! What's it like!? What's it like!? You gotta tell me, pleeeeeease!"

Hamuro's uncle shook his head. "Kid had a pro hero phase that I don't think she ever got over. I keep telling her to go for it, but-."

"I can't." Hamuro said sadly. "I'm not very strong and my quirk wouldn't do me much good. I just cancel waves."

Jirou wasn't even sure what that meant, but she didn't get the chance to ask before Hamuro lit up again. "But I got really good at technology and stuff so I could go into a support program! I mean, it's something, right?"

"You gonna try to get into U.A.?" Jirou asked. "That's where I go, since you asked, and they have a really good support program."

Hamuro's face was practically glowing. "U.A.!? That's my dream school! You gotta tell me all about it!"

Jirou wasn't sure how she ended up there, but before she knew it, she was chatting up a storm with this kid, talking about everything from hero work and studying to music and everything in between. Hamuro's excitement and enthusiasm reminded her of Kaminari in many ways, a welcoming aura for people to flock to and enjoy themselves in the company of good-natured people. The way that the orange-haired girl listened in awe about her tales of adventure and heroism made her chest feel all warm and fuzzy and suddenly, her excitement had truly become contagious.

For however long the two of them stayed there like that, the world outside of that store was completely closed off to them, so when a woman in a golden suit sauntered by, Jirou barely paid her any mind.

* * *

"Dude, we said we were sorry!"

"I wouldn't give a flying f*ck if you threw your face to the floor and groveled at my feet!"

The slowly growing crowd was quick to part as Bakugou stormed through, hands stuffed deep into his pockets and eyes burning trenches through the floor as he walked. He didn't even bother to spare Sparky a glance as he ran after him, occasionally offering apologies to the extras passing by as they went.

In all honesty, he knew that he shouldn't be this angry about something so trivial, but he was quite high strung at the moment for a multitude of reasons that he wasn't even sure he had the guts to discuss. D*mn him and struggling with his vulnerability. He should be able to trust these guys by now, d*mmit.

Except that they were a bunch of idiots who apparently had no problems with playing with his stuff without his knowledge or permission and _breaking_ it.

"Come on, man!" Discount Pikachu cried, fearlessly closing the distance between them. "I didn't mean to break your new phone! I didn't know it would fry that easily, honest! I'm really sorry!"

Marching over to a more secluded part of the mall, near where the more shady bathrooms and water fountains were located, Bakugou finally spun on his heel to face the other blonde, effectively startling him. "Why were you playing with it in the first place!? I specifically told you _not to touch my stuff!_"

Kaminari bit his lip, wringing his hands and suddenly finding a certain crack in the floor fascinating. "We were curious...?"

Bakugou glared at him, feeling his already hammering heart pound in his ears and boiling blood heat up to impossible temperatures. Of all the days that his friends had to go and p*ss him off, it had to be one of _those_ days. He was about to tear into the idiot standing in front of him when an annoyingly familiar screeching reached his senses.

"Wait!" Horns yelled, skidding to a halt in front of Kaminari and raising her hands in defense. "Wait, wait, wait! It's not all Kami's fault, okay? The whole thing was my idea in the first place! We shouldn't have looked through your stuff and I'm sorry for starting it! Kiri and Sero both said it was a bad idea, so don't be mad at them, either!"

Bakugou could still feel the rage rolling off of his shoulders as he glared at the two idiots standing in front of him, neither of them looking him directly in the eye. With an annoyed grumble, he rubbed at his reddened face while the other two seemed to finally loosen up.

"Look," he growled, moving to massage his temples and taking a long, deep breath. "I'm not in the mood for any of this. Just leave me alone for now and let me just, I don't know, chill for a second and calm the f*ck down, alright?"

The two morons in front of him gave each other sad gazes before they practically deflated, a mixture of guilt and concern swimming through their stupid eyes. An uncomfortable feeling was bubbling up in Bakugou's stomach in that moment, along with all the other ugly feelings that had been assaulting him for the past couple of days. It drove him nuts, how much more common these annoying feelings were becoming as his high school career continued.

See, this is why he didn't want to make connections.

"Hey, Blasty?" Ashido's voice suddenly entered his awareness. Even as Kaminari was slinking away, Ashido stood in front of him, a soft look in her eyes as she reached for his hand. Bakugou resisted the urge to yank his arm away as she grabbed a hold of his wrist and turned his hand to reveal his palm, shoving some plastic object into it and forcefully wrapping his fingers around it.

"It's a friendship bracelet." She explained. "I know it's not much, but consider it..., I don't know, a peace offering of sorts? I got one for myself each of the other boys, too. All custom made."

Even now, after all the sh*t that both Bakugou and his classmates had been through, it still somehow surprised him how blatantly unafraid of him they'd all become. Back in middle school, not one of his followers would have even dared to touch his hands, let alone purposefully aim his palms anywhere near the direction of their face.

Man, screw these guys for making him soft.

Before Bakugou even had the chance to say anything, Ashido had run off, falling in step beside Kaminari as they most likely made their way back to the other two dunces waiting for them. With a sigh and a wince at his oncoming headache, he leaned back against the wall, trying to calm his fried nerves. How did those breathing exercises that Kirishima taught him go again? Of course he couldn't recall them now.

He couldn't even place why he was in such a rotten mood lately, even though a lot of stuff had just so happened to happen all at once. So maybe he'd barely passed a few assignments and flunked an exam, and maybe that's because he'd been having trouble sleeping for the past few days, and _maybe_ that's because he was having nightmares again, _and __**maybe**_ that was because of the sh*t his parents had gotten themselves into, and immediately after he'd gotten into another fight with his mom, too.

It always started with a fight with his mom, didn't it? Though in her defense, it wasn't entirely her fault, and it wasn't even like he himself was much better, taking his frustration out on his friends like his mom would with his dad's coworkers due to some financial issues that he was still in the dark about.

And then they went and got themselves into a car accident. A bad one too, from the sounds of it. Thankfully, both escaped with minimal injuries, but that still wasn't a pleasant call to receive out of the blue just after his last shouting match with the hag, even if they were all okay in the end. In a way, maybe life had just decided to give him a taste of his own medicine, experiencing what his parents had to deal with every time something stupid happened to him. Eh.

So, now that he stopped to think about it, maybe he did know why he was in such a sour mood. What he still didn't quite understand was why he was taking it out on the idiot parade. He had yet to mention any of this to them, as if he still couldn't trust them with any vulnerability, which he knew was a lie. Why did old habits have to die so hard?!

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Somewhat sobered from his earlier rage, he looked down at the bracelet in his hand. She said it was custom made, which didn't surprise him. The beads were organized on the muted green string quite nicely, with one orange bead for every three black ones. It also had three charms on it, a skull and crossbones, a crown, and a cartoon burst icon that resembled an explosion. Considering who got it made, Bakugou was actually both surprised and impressed that it wasn't super tacky, like he might have expected.

Not in the mood for anyone's antics, he stuffed the bracelet in his pocket for the time being. It almost seemed petty to just hide it away, but he wasn't so heartless as to toss it like a piece of trash. He was distracted enough as it was, with all of these feelings and emotions festering inside of him, and he didn't want anything else getting in the way of his judgment.

And there was his greatest bane in all of this.

In the mess of emotions, the anger, worry, confusion, and everything else mixing itself up in his head, he couldn't pull them apart and identify them one by one, and apparently, he was so emotionally inept that this included his _f*cking hero sense_.

He'd felt like pins and needles for days, and nothing happened, so if something did happen, he might not know about it. He wouldn't be ready.

He didn't like being caught off guard.

That one little thought, that reminder was all it took for all of the paranoia to come rushing back, setting his mind on fire. It was almost like an itch that needed to be scratched. He needed to know if he missed something, anything, because if some fancy a*s villain decided to drop in and he didn't get to be the first in line to punch them in the face and let off some steam, he was gonna call bullsh*t.

Maybe, at least to some degree, that was why he agreed to tag along on this dumb outing in the first place.

Of course, with his current inner turmoil, he was practically blind, so his only real option at the moment was to ask someone else who did have the d*mn sense and wasn't losing their mind.

And _of course_, the only person who he could ask, and was at a level where he could trust their judgment with his life, was Deku.

What has his life become?

"F*ck me..." he mumbled, rubbing at his face again. He was already done with today.

Unfortunately for him, today didn't seem to be quite done with him.

At first, he'd genuinely thought that he'd sparked off without meaning to in his musings. Glancing at his hands, he was confused to find nothing, his calloused palms a comfortable, normal skin tone rather than a sharp, glowing yellow. In fact, now that he was thinking about it, they felt cooler than normal.

The sound of approaching explosions came to him a moment later, his eyes wide as civilians stopped in confusion and fear. The sound slowly grew louder and a powerful, overwhelming and _familiar_ sense of dread hit him with the power of a semi truck.

Without even thinking about it, he ran out from his hiding space and screamed. "GET THE F*CK AWAY FROM THERE!"

Onlookers scattered instantly, parents grabbing their children and lovers reaching for their partners and just like that, the crowd dissipated.

The shock wave hit a moment later.

* * *

Jirou and Hamuro had been gushing excitedly about a vintage record player in the back of the shop and bands that they liked when the entire store suddenly shook violently, a moderately loud boom making them all jump.

"That wasn't me." Hamuro's uncle muttered to himself in urgency and confusion as he ran to the entrance. Jirou was right behind him, reaching his side as the crowds began to run from where the noise came from.

"The h*ll?" Jirou questioned aloud, stopping a woman running by the store. "Hey, what's going on?!"

"Bombs!" The woman exclaimed. "A line of explosions went off down the way! No one knows if it's just an attack or if villains are coming, but we've gotta get out of the heroes' way!"

The woman continued along, running off and vanishing into the crowd. Hamuro and her hamster were looking over her uncle's shoulder at the madness outside as Jirou backed up into the store.

"A line of explosions? But that's impossible..." Jirou said in awe. "I would've heard it before the shock wave hit. My quirk-"

There was no describing the feeling that shot through her entire being in that moment, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. The closest she could come to trying to explain it would be when you first wake up in a dark room and for a moment, though the darkness might be something familiar, and you know what it's like to see, you're blind for a moment. The first emotion that hit her was confusion, this strange feeling of phantom movement and a sense of lacking control following close behind.

The fact that it took her so long to realize her predicament was somewhat embarrassing, but in all honesty, she couldn't have cared less at the time.

Her jacks weren't moving. She couldn't even feel them at all as they hung off of her earlobes like useless strings of meat.

She couldn't use her quirk.

She was quirkless.

What.

"What?" Her hands shot up to her ears, desperately squeezing her ear jacks for some kind of feeling to return. Some kind of movement. Some kind of control. "My quirk... When did..."

When awareness returned after her solitary moment of panic, Hamuro's uncle was staring at his fingertips with wide eyes, flexing them nervously. If Jirou had to guess, he was also trying to use his quirk.

"You, Jirou, was it?" he suddenly asked urgently. He paused for a moment, a look of recognition in his eyes, but he waved it off a moment later. "I know you're a hero-in-training and all, but if you can't use your quirk right now, unless you're a master of martial arts, I'd suggest coming with me."

Even as the words left his lips, the distant sound of gunfire reached their ears. Ham squeaked as Hamuro clutched him to her chest nervously, swallowing a lump in her throat. Jirou felt her hands itch as the screams of civilians filtered through immediately after. Something ugly was churning in her stomach as she thought about leaving those people to their fate. They were all dying _right now_ and she could do _nothing_.

She wondered if any of her classmates were among them and her heart dropped to its lowest depths.

As strange armored men began to appear around the corner, Hamuro's uncle pulled down the closing fence and began to usher the two girls to the back room. "There's an exit at the very far end of the backroom. We can escape through there."

He must have clearly seen the way her face contorted, because he was quickly ushering her and his niece towards the door before she knew it. "I know it's probably hard for you, miss, but I'm sure there are plenty of people who don't want you dead. Escape for them."

A part of her felt sick for this, but another part could also understand the pointlessness and irrationality of running into a fight without her powers against armed villains.

She was starting to think more like Aizawa. Maybe that was a good thing.

"I... Sure." she finally relented. "... Um..."

"Most of the regulars call me Mr. Naofumi, but call me whatever you want."

"Right. Sure, Mr. Naofumi."

The sound of banging and groaning metal had all three of them wide eyed, hearts beating wildly. A whimper escaped Hamuro's throat as she and Jirou were suddenly shoved behind the counter, just adjacent to the locked backroom door.

"Uncle Nao?" Hamuro questioned, eyes glistening with tears.

"Mika," Mr. Naofumi implored, shoving a key into her shaky, sweaty palms. "Hold on to this, and don't lose it. No matter what happens, no one is allowed into that backroom. Do not let them know. _Do not let them get in_. Do you understand me?"

"Uncle-!"

"Promise me, Mika."

Someone was shouting outside the store, fighting to make their way in. Hamuro shook as she fought with her uncooperative voice, eventually giving up and simply nodding her head in response. Mr. Naofumi sighed, his hardened eyes suddenly landing on Jirou, still in somewhat of a state of shock where she sat.

"Jirou," he begged, and Jirou felt as if she'd be haunted by this moment for the rest of her life. "Please, protect her."

There were millions of emotions flashing across his eyes, countless feelings of hope and doubt and understanding as his gaze bore into her. She swallowed. "What are you-."

Something gave way, and Mr. Naofumi stood, moving to stand in front of the counter. "Protect her!"

Hamuro's wide, fearful eyes bore into Jirou, lost and terrified and a series of ominous clicks filled the room. "Hands up!"

"U-!" Jirou's hand clamped down over Hamuro's mouth, pulling her into her lap and pressing herself as far behind the counter as she could physically manage. Something in her stomach was churning painfully and every nerve in her body felt as if it were on fire.

Because she was supposed to be a hero, d*mmit. She should be valiantly taking on those villains, risking her own safety for the sake of innocent civilians and willing to sacrifice herself for the greater good.

But she was frozen. The image of barrels of multiple guns pointed at her were clear in her mind's eye and the body she was holding against her own was suddenly unfathomably heavy.

The logical part of her brain that was reminding her of how unhelpful it would be to just run out and get herself killed was being smothered by that added reminder. Useless, useless, _useless_.

She could feel warm liquid running over the back of her hand, Hamuro hiccuping in her attempts to control her emotions. At some point, her hamster had crawled up on Jirou's shoulder, snuggling against her neck and squeaking in a subdued manner. Outside of their hiding place, Jirou could clearly hear the sounds of a light struggle, of someone being forcefully dragged out of the store as the armored men began to slowly filter out as well. Even without her quirk, Jirou could clearly hear shrill screaming far down the hallways of the mall, though the gunfire had stopped.

"Jirou?" Hamuro's voice was timid, questioning, quiet in fear of who may still be lurking nearby. Jirou didn't even remember moving her hand.

It was in that moment that Jirou realized that everything had gone eerily silent. From where they sat, not a single sound could be heard. No laughing children or chatty friends, no sales people promoting products or videos playing or animal sounds, no footsteps or clattering weapons or bangs or booms or calls for help.

Everything was just quiet, as if the world itself had died.

Jirou had never thought that she'd truly experience what it might be like to be deaf, but this was easily the most terrifying experience that she'd ever face.

With a long, shaky breath, Jirou forced air back into her lungs, and time restarted with the sudden sound of blaring static.

* * *

In normal circumstances, Aizawa would know better than to blame himself for events outside of his knowledge or control, but _f*ck_ did he feel irrationally sick at the moment.

"Eraser!" Present Mic's voice easily pierced through the noise of the crowds around them. Off to Aizawa's left, Vlad King was practically digging through civilians in search his own students. "Eraser! I was patrolling down the street and got an emergency call! What's going on?!"

In all honesty, Aizawa was still wondering the same thing. One moment, he was with Vlad King, coffee in hand, at least _trying_ to enjoy himself in such an annoyingly loud and bright environment, and the next thing he knows, explosions erupt from the other side of the mall, followed by screaming. Aizawa had to swallow the personal offense that bubbled up in his stomach when Vlad King questioned if it was because Bakugou had lost his temper, because the kid was _not_ stupid enough to blow up public property for no reason, so he was quick to pull that train of thought onto the correct course.

If it wasn't Bakugou, than it was either a villain attack or a catastrophic accident of some kind and was an emergency. If it was Bakugou, than there had to be a good reason behind it, which would most likely still translate to a villain attack, and thus an emergency.

Logical conclusion: The world hates him.

The two of them had been quick to send out an emergency message to all forty students before fighting through the crowd of fleeing civilians to get to the attack. A small sliver of relief flooded his mind when he recognized a couple of his students within the crowd, being forced out of the mall by the stream of people emptying out of it.

The distinct sound of gunfire reached them then, and Aizawa was already expecting the worst. It didn't matter how many of them there were. They had guns, they were firing, and people were likely already dead.

He didn't know where the rest of his students were, and he didn't know how many people were still in there.

"Eraserhead!" Vlad King suddenly yelled. Aizawa's gaze landed on him, and he couldn't help but notice the look of subdued horror in his eyes as he stared at his arm. "Eraserhead, my quirk's not working!"

There had been a single moment of confusion before Aizawa realized the implications. Goggles firmly set over his bloodshot eyes, Aizawa was willing to bet there was no red hue to be seen. He'd already caught onto the fact that his messy black hair was still cascading comfortably over his shoulders rather than rising up above his head as it usually did when he activated his quirk.

In other words, he didn't need test subject to be able to tell that he couldn't use his own, either.

Strange armored men had appeared a moment later, immediately raising their firearms at the two heroes. Aizawa had reacted quickly, using his capture tape to pull a table into their path and give them just enough protection to get to a safer position, a wall near the mall entryway.

Vlad King let out an indecipherable expletive as the villains continued shooting at their hiding spots, chipping it away and leaving them almost trapped. "Any ideas, Eraserhead?"

Aizawa grimaced. On one hand, there were likely still people trapped inside the mall, possibly even some of their students, but on the other, there was no point in running in without a plan and getting mowed down for no good reason.

"No." Aizawa relented. "Our only logical option right now is to retreat and regroup."

"What?!" Vlad King hissed.

"Listen, if we try to fight them out in the open like this without quirks, then we'll just be killed!" he reasoned. "And that isn't going to help anything!"

Vlad King looked unimpressed, but seemed to understand Aizawa's logic, following right behind him as he made his escape. Unfortunately, Vlad King still took a bullet to his forearm as they practically dove through the entrance, but ultimately, it could have been far worse.

And this was evident by the fact that other heroes had in fact tried to be heroic and fight them quirkless, resulting in serious and even fatal injuries as first responders wheeled them away. Aizawa took a deep breath and continued searching for his students while Vlad King approached the paramedics himself.

By the time Present Mic had showed up with more heroes, he'd managed to round up about half of them. Yaoyorozu, Kouda, and Hagakure were the first ones he'd managed to find, easy to spot in their own frantic, panicked search for their classmates, while Ojiro and Mineta followed soon after. According to Yaoyorozu, Jirou had been with them, but they have no idea where she currently is. Tokoyami, Shouji, and Rikidou were next, all three of them somewhat shaken but outwardly calm and collected. Just as Mic approached him, he'd just gathered Aoyama, Asui, and Iida.

Eleven down, nine to go. The good news was that he had most of his class now. The bad news was that most of the ones still missing were his nightmare students, including the two problem children, and what made this even more aggravating was the fact that he'd specifically planned this trip so early in the morning in order to try to _avoid_ his class getting caught up in something like this. _Again_.

Meanwhile, Vlad King had already found his entire class, because the universe doesn't hate them quite as much.

"To answer your question," Aizawa finally drawled out. "I have no idea. All we know is that within a certain radius of the mall, quirks are temporarily erased."

"Really?" Present Mic thought aloud, eyebrows raised. "In that case, I could probably take out a few of those guys from here, right? Or will an attack cancel out?"

"Whether or not it works doesn't matter." Aizawa responded gravely. "There are hostages in there, a lot of them, and we have no idea exactly how many there are or their exact location."

Present Mic's face contorted in dismay at that, his eyes falling back onto the offending building, where those mysterious armored men appeared to be patrolling around any windows on the outside of the building and on the rooftops. "Fantastic timing as usual, I see. And right when we thought that we could have a nice school trip with our students."

"My entire class is cursed, I swear to All Might."

Present Mic laughed despite himself.

"Sensei!" Iida's voice caught Aizawa's attention immediately, the class representative skidding to a halt in front of his teacher. "More of the class has appeared!"

"Who?" Aizawa demanded, the two of them falling into pace as they walked back to their meeting place and Present Mic followed after them.

"Midoriya and Uraraka, sir! And also Sero! Uraraka seems to have acquired a light head injury and Midoriya might be somewhat emotionally shaken, but other than that, all three appear to be okay! Unfortunately, Sero was alone and didn't know his regular company's current location."

Aizawa had to resist the urge to snort at "regular company" in the wake of such dire circumstances. He sighed. "Alright. Stay with the others and try to keep them under control. This is a delicate situation with an unknown number of lives on the line and it would be safest for everyone involved if this was left to the _pros_. Keep an eye out for the rest of your classmates and be ready for anything, should this somehow escalate."

"Yes, sir!" Iida responded loudly, jogging ahead in order to rendezvous with his classmates.

Present Mic quickly took his place, an uncharacteristically stern look in his eyes. "How many does that leave?"

Aizawa already felt exhausted just thinking about it. "Six in total. Two hellions, a poster child for lacking self-preservation, the personification of not giving a f*ck, the other problem child, and Jirou."

Mic had to fight to not smile. "In layman's terms?"

"Ashido and Kaminari, Kirishima, Todoroki, Bakugou, Jirou."

"Gotcha."

Rubbing at his face, Aizawa was sure he looked like he just crawled out of a coffin at this point, scanning the dying chaos as the escaped crowds were evacuated to a safe distance and heroes and emergency personnel alike began to circulate and set up shop around the now disturbingly silent entrance of the mall. He really hoped that the rest of his missing students were just trying to dig their way through a panicked crowd in order to reach the front lines, where he could intercept them. Wouldn't that be nice?

Focusing back on the issue at hand, Aizawa was honestly impressed with how quickly the police had set up barriers and stationed armed officers around the vicinity. Normally, he wouldn't see the point of dragging them directly into the fight, but if there was something around the building causing quirks to be erased, then their presence was more than justified in his mind. Police tents were also going up quickly, the familiar face of detective Tsukauchi ducking out of one and jogging over to Aizawa as the last preparations were made.

"So, no openings?" Aizawa questioned.

Tsukauchi only shook his head. "Several heroes have already made rounds around the building. The speed of which they were able to fortify this place is disturbing efficient. An incredible feat."

"Which makes me wonder what exactly we're dealing with here." Aizawa cuts in with an edge of dread. "Any leads on who's responsible for this?"

As if on queue, a scripted moment in a live action hero drama, the mall doors opened ominously, six of the strange armored men marching out in full view. They were geared up from head to toe, their armor a toned down reddish color. Two of them were wearing strange looking belt, a large, bright red bulb held at their midsections by chain like bands going around their waists and over their shoulders. Aizawa cringed at the large guns being held at their sides, poised to fire at any moment. For a moment, he wondered if any of them were planning to just fire at all of them without warning.

"Well..." Present Mic suddenly muttered, his sunglasses gleaming in the light. "Look's like they're about to answer your question, Eraser."

Much to everyone's confusion, fog began to roll out through the doorways, billowing over the steps and cascading down to their feet. At first, Aizawa had feared a quirk, but that thought was immediately stomped down by the remaining fact that quirks were erased within the mall.

It was Tsukauchi that seemed to catch on first. "Are those-... Did th- Did they set up _fog machines_? They had the time to set up a fog machine system for this? Is this a joke?"

Aizawa just kept silent.

The fog began to swirl through the air as a new figure passed through it, a microphone in his hand and a skip in his step. Stepping into the light, the first thing Aizawa took in was his sharp nose and the oddly soft and inviting look in his eyes. He had a smile on his face, a mixture of content and giddiness overtaking his posture and aura. In a way, it was highly unnerving.

He took the less important details into account a moment later, long, combed back black hair, less than flashy black and dark green color scheme for his costume, small gizmos and gadgets scattered about his body, anything that might identify what villain they were dealing with. The more he looked, however, the more he realized how unfamiliar this villain was.

They were likely dealing with a whole new threat here.

The villain casually smacked the microphone, Aizawa wincing at the high pitched squealing sound that followed. Eyebrow raised, he turned it over and around in an exaggerated manner as static blared through the mall's loud speakers. "Is it on? Is this thing on?"

After turning to one of the guards, he nodded to himself and turned back to the crowd of heroes, police, and emergency personnel making up his audience. "Yes, okay! good morning, ladies and gentlemen!"

His response was the officers in front pulling out their weapons. The villain held his hand up defensively. "Whoa, there! Settle down, guys and gals. Let's discuss this like adults, shall we?"

"Is he not taking this seriously?" Aizawa asked aloud. "He's basically set up a heist and he's treating law enforcement like an audience."

There was one odd, unbelievably unnerving moment where the villain's eyes landed directly on Aizawa. It was strange, the number of emotions that flew across his face, all laced with a distinct look of recognition. Aizawa forced himself to not swallow as he met the villain's gaze, a look of curiosity of awe finally taking over his features before he gave up on their little staring contest and moved on.

It was a weird little moment, and it did nothing to quell the dread building up in Aizawa's stomach.

"Now then," the villain suddenly started up again. "I'm sure that at this point, the lot of you are expecting the whole 'hero society is corrupt' and 'morality is gray' spiel, or even your typical villain monologue that someone will spit out every other minute these days because originality died a long time ago, but frankly, I'm not gonna waste my time with that. What do any of you people care, anyway, am I right?"

He clicked his heels and twirled the microphone around in his hand. "Honestly, I don't have much to say at all, or at least, not yet. For right now, I simply wanted to introduce myself!"

The guards behind him took their positions and saluted, more appearing on the roof as the authorities held their ground and the heroes braced for a fight. Aizawa felt a shiver run down his spine as the villain only grinned at their apprehension.

Countless hostages, unknown amount of weapons and technology, perfectly secured target, complete and utter confidence.

At that moment, he had complete control.

He grinned brightly, and for a moment, Aizawa was sure he saw the devil himself. "I've gone by many names in the past, but as of today, you all may refer to me as the greatest villain of the new age, Schrodinger!"

* * *

**Considering how long this first chapter took, updates might be particularly slow with this story. Thanks for your patience and support, guys!**


	2. Paraphyly: The Counteraction

**Hey, everybody! So, who already started school last week and who started on Tuesday? X) I know my first week was pretty busy, so I haven't had time to write. Well, better late than never, am I right?**

**Anyway, I don't have much to say here, so just enjoy the show!**

* * *

The disappearance of static and the deafening silence that replaced it did nothing for Jirou's shot nerves.

Silence fell over them again, the overwhelming feeling of borderline deafness and the subsequent sense of dread that came with it sending pins and needles through her entire body. For a moment, she felt as if she was shaking, swallowing heavily as she tried to control her body in a desperate attempt to keep noise at an absolute minimum. It was quiet, like a wasteland, and she had no way of knowing whether all of those people left or if someone was left behind, waiting.

"Jirou?" Jirou nearly jumped at the sudden sound of Hamuro's whisper, huddled up in a ball with her back pressed against her torso and her eyes wet with emotion. Jirou almost felt bad for shushing her, watching as her eyes widened with fear and she clamped her hands over her mouth, but now wasn't the time for her to guilt trip herself for startling a child in a life or death situation.

As Jirou slowly slid away, the hamster hopped off of Jirou's shoulder and onto Hamuro's, nuzzling against her cheek in a sort of comforting manner. With a shaky breath, Jirou began to slowly creep to the opening between behind the counter and the outside world. Even the slightest movement sounded amplified in her own ears, seemingly throwing off her perception of sound entirely. Every creak in the floor sent shivers down her spine and her heart pounding wildly against her ribcage and leaving her nearly breathless.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she steeled herself. _Focus, Jirou. You're a d*mn hero. Act like one. _

"Okay..." she breathed, her hand gripping the side of the counter tightly as she peered around the corner.

From what she could see, there was no sign of movement, not even a stray hostage or a lone patrolling guard. Everything remained quiet, contrasting the loud, roaring blood in her head. She flinched at the sound of Hamuro moving behind her, her concerned, almost expectant gaze boring into the back of her head like a laser beam. Gritting her teeth, she willed herself to peer out further, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the security cameras scattered throughout the store. A part of her claimed paranoia, considering that the villains literally just showed up today, but another part helpfully reminded her that heists aren't set up in a day. From her minute understanding, planning could take weeks. Months, even.

What the h*ll were they up against?

Another shaky breath did nothing to refill her lungs, but she spoke anyway. "It looks...as clear as it's gonna get."

"Sh- Shouldn't we stay here?... Or..."

Jirou had thought about that. Oh, how she thought about that, and yet, she couldn't possibly bring herself to sit this one out, nor could she stand the idea of leaving this girl here to fend for herself in case things go sideways.

"I just... I have a hunch," she swallowed. "That they're gonna come back, check every nook and cranny... We have to get out of here."

"Jirou..."

"If they find us here, then they're gonna try to check in there." Jirou reasoned, pointing her thumb at the door to the backroom. "I'd say we escape through there, but I don't know how much noise opening the door would make and how many of those guys are close enough to hear it."

Hamuro stared at the door longingly, nodding slowly. "And they can't get in there... No matter what..."

"What's in there, anyway?"

Hamuro opened her mouth to reply when a loud, metallic clatter made them both jump, Hamuro's hands shooting back up to her mouth to avoid screaming. The sound was similar to that of a pan being dropped on a kitchen floor, something that Jirou absolutely despised hearing back in the dorms.

She allowed a smirk to cross her face as she thought of her classmates, all of them back at the dorms, Jirou either curling up in the corner farthest from the kitchen or fleeing to her dorm room whenever someone started cooking in the kitchen, mostly when it was one of her less competent or more nervous classmates making a mess and dropping things. Then again, even when people like Rikidou or Bakugou, who very clearly knew what they were doing, were in there with pots and pans moving around, Jirou was quick to make some distance in fear of getting her eardrums blown out of her head from some metal tin hitting the floor with a painful clang and leaving her ears ringing.

She blinked when she felt a light tug on the back of her shirt and mentally slapped herself for spacing out.

"We have to move." she realized out loud, suddenly aware of the possible sets of ears listening for any sounds that could imply movement whatsoever. "That's gonna attract attention."

"Right." Hamuro breathed behind her, tightening her grip on Jirou's shirt as the two began to slowly make their way out of their hiding spot.

Jirou's eyes once again strayed to the cameras. "Those security cameras..."

"Their camera feed goes directly to Uncle Nao's computer. Unless the bad guys hacked into every single separate system that there could possibly be in this entire place, we should be fine."

Despite the underlying question of whether or not they did do such a thing, Jirou slowly inched forward, Hamuro lightly pressing her hamster against her face as they approached the broken down exit. Jirou turned to Hamuro for only a moment, holding her finger over her mouth as a sign to keep quiet, then slowly, carefully poked her head out of the shop.

The hairs on the back of her neck were suddenly standing on end, as if she was being watched.

"_F*ck me_." she grit out, reaching back to grab Hamuro's arm and pulling her alongside her as she made her way behind a pillar for cover. If her instincts were right, they weren't getting much farther, but a part of her was still both hopeful and desperate for an escape.

The hallways were dead silent, trinkets and garbage scattered around in everyone's frantic attempt at escaping. Jirou was half expecting a breeze to somehow blow through the building, throwing all the trash around and howling through the quiet, empty corridors and broken down gates and doors. If Jirou didn't know any better, she'd say that the apocalypse had taken place.

The hamster, Ham, she remembered, slid from Hamuro's shoulder and into one of her pockets as the sound of footsteps entered their awareness. Pulling Hamuro close to herself, Jirou scanned the area carefully, listening as best as she could without her quirk aiding her. She wasn't sure whether or not it was her imagination, but she thought she heard the sounds of someone else moving around nearby.

It set her nerves on fire.

"It came from over here!" a voice echoed through the halls, Jirou pulling Hamuro down with her as she crouched behind the pillar. It wasn't long before three of those guards were walking down the hallway, one of them with a strange looking belt across their chest with a big red bulb on it. Scanning the three villains, it seemed that he was the only one who wasn't armed. A higher rank, perhaps?

"Search the shops." one of them ordered. "Someone could still be hiding in there. Keep your eyes peeled and don't let anyone get away."

Jirou felt her heart rate speed up as one of them, one of the two armed guards, immediately started searching the Hamuro's shop, the sounds of crashing forcing Hamuro to stifle her own urge to sob. Jirou couldn't help but commend the girl for her strength in staying quiet and calm in such a terrifying situation. Jirou felt herself nearly deflate when the sound of a cash register suddenly popping open after hitting the ground told her that she'd made the right call.

The girl in question slowly crept up to Jirou's ear, her voice so quiet that Jirou herself barely heard it. "Should we run?"

Jirou shook her head wildly. If they ran, then they'd be spotted for sure, and two of them have guns. That wasn't a chance that she was willing to take, which only left them the option of staying hidden and waiting it out.

"Hey, look at this." One of them called, the other two approaching as the guard held up the grate of a vent. "I found this thing on the floor. Someone must have tried to get into the vents, but unless there's a toddler who knows how to remove these things, there's no way they'd have fit."

So that's the sound Jirou heard.

"So, someone was here, then." The guy with the bulb thought out loud, eyes scanning around.

"Thanks, captain obvious." was the response he got. "Just keep searching the area. They couldn't have gotten far."

Jirou looked back out into the mess of a mall, empty and open and filled with nothing but dead ends to get themselves cornered in. If they hid in a nearby store, they'd get flushed out eventually. If they stayed out here in the hallways, then they'd be spotted. There were crevices between some of the stores, but they were empty and with nowhere to run. They'd be sitting ducks if someone walked by and did a double take.

A bathroom might be a possibility, but it also seemed somewhat obvious. Plus, if there was someone else hiding there by some random chance, then she would be running the chance of leading the villains straight to more hostages. The vents, now that it was brought up, also seemed like a viable, but still somewhat obvious option. If they were careful, they could use them to get from place to place more discreetly and without the threat of being caught immediately. It was also possible that there were some safe, hard to notice corners unturned in some of those stores.

If they were really lucky, a large enough vent cover might be in one of those stores.

Hiding in a store it was, then.

Lightly squeezing Hamuro's arm, Jirou slowly stood up, Hamuro copying her movements and watching her intently. It was like walking on eggshells, slowly backing up and eying the direction of the guards warily. Considering that they were so close by, their best bet was to hide in the store next door, which looked to be some kind of bookstore. Thankfully, the door was still open, so it would be easy to step inside.

One of them kicked a glass bottle.

Jirou had no clue which one of them did it, or even how or why it was there, but the clink of glass against tiled floor was far too loud in her own ears against the silent background and Hamuro was already in tears next to her.

"Did you hear that?" one of the guards asked out loud, and Jirou was practically pushing Hamuro into the dark bookstore. The carpeted floor was like divine intervention as the two ran through the walkways, ignoring any spare books that may have fallen in there wake.

They needed to hide, _they needed to hide_. They needed to hide _**right now**_.

Taking care to stay on carpet and not slap their shoes against tile or knock over a bookshelf, the two girls found themselves in the very back of the store, where several boxes were haphazardly stacked against the wall. In her desperation to at least protect the kid if nothing else, Jirou moved a couple around to reveal an empty makeshift fort, deep enough for the two of them to squeeze into and seal themselves off from searching eyes.

Jirou grit her teeth at the childish hiding place, but hearing footsteps approaching the shop doors, she knew they had no choice. "Hamuro," she whisper yelled. "In there. _Now_."

Hamuro complied wordlessly, crawling under the boxes as tears continued to stream down her face and Ham suddenly climbed back up onto her shoulder. Jirou was quick to crawl in after her, sliding a another box in place to hide their presence and pressing against her as a shield between the safe, but small dark space and the villains. A part of Jirou dearly wanted to be able to fight, to kick some a*s and teach a few bad guys a lesson they'll never forget.

But she was quirkless, of average strength, and against grown men with firearms. There wasn't much she could do here, and it was killing her inside.

She wasn't sure if she was hearing things, but it sounded like her teeth were chattering.

She knew her class was a massive conglomerate of trouble magnets all shoved into a room together one day, but this was starting to be a bit much. She would never be strayed from her path to heroism, but she'd bet money that the pros were starting to notice, too. Sure, there were certain names that came up regularly, but all of them had had some kind of close encounter with death at some point by now. Weirdly enough, however, that didn't seem to be what frustrated her the most.

What was frustrating was that they were supposed to be heroes. They're suppose to be heroes, and yet they're constantly attracting villain activity wherever they go, which means that more civilians will be in danger.

And this is the epitome of what could go wrong with that set up. They may not be the main targets this time around, but man, does it feel like it.

And again, there's nothing they can do. There's nothing _she_ could do, because she's currently quirkless and she wants to fight back, but a suicide run isn't going to save anyone and it's just so frustrating. All she can do is try to stay out of the way and hope beyond hope that her classmates are all somehow okay.

Hamuro silently curled up against Jirou's back, her orange curls spilling over Jirou's shoulder and glasses lopsided and foggy. Jirou could practically feel the tears soaking into her shirt as she fought to keep silent, flinching at every crash and bang that sounded out from inside the store. The poor girl had been forced to listen as her uncle was dragged off, likely to die. Jirou couldn't ever possibly imagine if it had been one of her own parents.

Footsteps approached their little box fort and Jirou's breath hitched, frozen in place as the guards seemed to circle around their hiding place like sharks around an injured seal. She wasn't listening to anything they were saying, but she could clearly hear the sounds of boxes being kicked around and shelves of books being thrown to the ground. The shadows of their silhouettes could be seen through the cracks of their hideout, passing by in their search, and Jirou had never felt so cornered in her life.

Biting her finger, Jirou listened as they continued to move around them. There was a huff. "Still don't see anything."

"Keep looking. I know someone's here," was the response. "And Schrodinger wanted us to gather _everyone_. No outliers."

"Right."

Crashing around the room intensified, and Jirou instinctively curled around her new friend, as if she could shield her from the danger literally inches away from them. More bookshelves met their demise, slamming into the ground in a spray of paper and splintered wood, while doors were busted down and desks and chairs were thrown around. Hamuro's whimper was muffled by Jirou's shirt, her face still pressed against her.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, the noise faded away.

The two girls were still for what felt like ages, Jirou's blood roaring in her ears and her heart trying to punch out of her ribcage. Their breathing sounded far too loud to her and the tight space they'd holed up in seemed as if it was closing in and growing hotter.

One heartbeat, two, and then three. Not a sound.

Jirou felt herself deflating, a light sob of pure relief escaping her lips. Hamuro hugged her tighter, daring to look up. It was as if the world was lighting back up again, their breath returning and heart's slowing down in tandem. Jirou almost felt dizzy.

Taking a deep breath, Jirou inched towards the crack in their hideout, peering out into the destroyed bookstore. Shelves had been knocked down and strewn about with no care, books torn and fallen at awkward angles that would surely leave them bent beyond repair. Wood splinters and what looked almost like sawdust littered the carpeted floor, blanketing the room as if it were a light dusting of snow. Jirou would have felt worse for the store owners and employees, but right now, she was too busy remembering how to breathe.

Something that she immediately forgot how to do when the box in front of her was violently kicked away.

Jirou gasped despite herself, shuffling back to shield Hamuro behind her as the barrel of a gun was suddenly staring back at her, like a black hole opening up in front of her and promising nothing but her own demise. Hamuro let out a whimper and Ham scrambled back into Hamuro's pocket for safety.

"Get up, hands in the air." the man above them ordered calmly. Jirou was breathing through her teeth, her movements slow and delayed as a sudden dizziness came over her, and for a second, she feared that she might actually pass out.

"These the stragglers?" another one asked, the one with the weird belt.

"Looks like it. I guess we really did lose that boy's trail."

"D*mmit."

By this point, Jirou had managed to get to her feet, her knees lightly buckling as she continued to take long, shaky breaths. She kept her face hardened, tucking the fear away as Hamuro pulled herself up behind her, a sob escaping the girl's lips.

It hurt, but this really was the one thing that Jirou could do as a hero. Hold a brave face to keep hope alive until her last breath.

"Search for phones and we'll round them up with the others." the guy with the belt said. "And keep an eye out for the other kid. He seems to be a slippery one."

"Yeah, yeah." the one with the gun raised muttered, checking Jirou's pockets and pulling out her phone. Jirou felt her arms being twisted painfully behind her back as the other took out Hamuro's phone, thankfully somehow missing the hamster. He then did the same with Hamuro's arms, earning a cry of pain.

"Don't hurt her!" Jirou warned, only earning a snort in response as the two of them were both dragged out of the destroyed bookstore and back out into the quiet, empty hallways.

They were still being watched.

Jirou's eyes widened, scanning the area around her. Was there someone else still here? More victims watching helplessly as they're carted away? Other guards patrolling for escapees as well? All that answered her was continued radio silence, the corridors silent in their wake, making their footsteps that much louder.

"Jirou..." Hamuro whimpered, her eyes wide and fearful. Jirou could do nothing but give her a weak, reassuring smile, even if it was only surface level.

"Phew." The guy with the belt exhaled, momentarily taking off his helmet and wiping his brow. With the way she was being restrained, Jirou couldn't get a good look at him. "You guys think there's anyone else here?"

"Who knows?" the one with Hamuro responded. "The halls are quiet. Either way, we'll flush 'em out eventually. We just gotta keep guys coming and going through the halls until Schrodinger's had his fun and decides to split."

Jirou could practically feel the cruel smile from the man holding her. "Heh. And who knows when that'll be, the mad b*stard."

Belt guy shrugged, his sigh almost covering up the odd, light banging sounds that Jirou thought she heard from above, though she might be imagining things. "Can't argue with you there." he laughed lightly, dusting his helmet. "Alright, I say we're done here. Let's hea-"

If Jirou had been paying attention, she might have seen the grate on the vent directly above them get stomped out of place in a single motion.

The grate slammed into Belt Guy's head with a loud clang, already bent inward from the force used to kick it open. He staggered, the other two guards twisting around in response. It was barely a second later, once Jirou and Hamuro were now facing the chaos, that a body violently flung itself through the opening feet first, slamming down into Belt Guy with the entirety of their weight and sending him to the ground.

And all Jirou could think when registering the shock of ash blonde hair was _DEAR_ F*CKING _LORD_.

The split second where sharp red eyes met her own felt like an eternity held in slow motion, Bakugou's fierce glare boring right through her before finally shifting to the side. It was barely a moment before his heel dug into Belt Guy's face one more time and he launched himself towards the guard holding Hamuro. Said guard let out a distressed shout as he reached for his gun, but Jirou blinked and Bakugou had already taken a hold of his wrist, twisting his weapon away from both him and Jirou, and clenched his free hand into a tight fist.

With one swift motion, he buried it into the tight, gray-colored area around the guard's midsection, Jirou watching with wide eyes and a growing smile as the man doubled over in pain, releasing Hamuro in the process.

So their armor has a weak point. Duly noted.

"Why you-!" the one holding Jirou shouted, pulling out his weapon as well. From this distance, Bakugou likely wouldn't have had time to reach him before he was shot down.

Unfortunately for this guy, however, grabbing his gun meant that one of Jirou's arms was now free.

Taking what she'd learned to heart, she raised her arm high above her head and brought it down hard, pure, addicting satisfaction coursing through her veins as her elbow jabbed harshly into the armor's weak point. Even as the guard faltered, Jirou didn't stop, violently repeating the motion several times more before she felt him get torn off of her, his head being slammed into the ground with a thunderous crack. A couple punches to the throat later, earning a strong cringe from Jirou, it was all over.

For a moment, Jirou let herself breathe, Hamuro running to her side and clinging onto her with a sob.

Now straddling the unconscious villain, Bakugou looked up at Jirou with a cocked eyebrow. "How the h*ll did you get caught so easily, Earlobes?"

"Shut up, you f*ck." she shot back coolly, despite how her stomach was still doing somersaults. She shook her head with a sigh. "Whatever. Thanks for the save. Where did you even come from?"

"Long story." he ground out as he stood. "First and foremost, we need to get out of here."

"Do you know him?" Hamuro whispered in her ear as Bakugou picked up the fallen, bent grate.

"He's in my heroics class." she responded, Hamuro's eyes seemingly regaining their shine with this new information. "I sit next to him."

"Here." he practically growled, shoving the grate into Jirou's hands. "Worst case scenario, you can use it as a weapon. If we leave it here, they'll get suspicious of the vents. They probably will anyway since it's wide open, but we don't have much of a choice." He fell silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he seemed to size Hamuro up. Hamuro, in turn, hid behind Jirou, though she somehow managed to keep eye contact, her own gaze radiating with curiosity. He looked away first, turning to leave. "Let's go. Someone's bound to have heard the commotion."

"Shouldn't we take their guns?" Jirou asked.

"Already tried. They're chained to their armor." he responded in annoyance. "Probably to keep anyone from actually doing that. Now _let's go_."

With that he broke out into a jog, simply expecting them to follow. Jirou sighed and shook her head, taking Hamuro's hand and chasing after him on shaky legs.

* * *

"Sooooo, I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm starting to see a common theme with our class these days..."

Kaminari chuckled at his own words, Kirishima shaking his head fondly in response despite the obvious wince of pain. The weight of the redhead's arm hanging over his shoulders was beginning to make him sore, Kaminari gritting his teeth every time the hardening quirk user stumbled over his heavily bleeding leg. On the other side, Ashido was keeping a straight face, shouldering the weight with a steely determination that had Kaminari shuddering from its intensity.

The initial attack had been an absolute madhouse, leaving the three of them fighting for their lives against the strange armed men that stormed the building. They hadn't even known that their quirks were gone until Kirishima attempted to shield Ashido from a bullet and it dug right into his flesh. He'd thankfully done so by slamming into her and diving out of the way, but Kaminari still couldn't help but shudder at the thought of how bad it could have been.

Leaving the building was hard, especially when they were practically dragging Kirishima away from the conflict kicking and screaming. In the heat of the moment, it took Kaminari way too long to realize how useless they were in that fight, being forced to hide from the spray of gunfire, but at least he could say that for that one moment, he'd gotten to be the intelligent one, convincing Ashido at least to get them the h*ll out of there before they were turned into swiss cheese. As much as they didn't want to leave without knowing where Sero and Bakugou were, they didn't have much of a choice. Besides, Bakugou was the smartest out of all of them and Sero was the most rational. They'd be fine.

Probably.

Even in their escape, the odds had been against them, the guards hot on their heels as they sprinted for safety away from the mall. One of the walls had been blasted apart in the line of explosions, leaving a pile of debris and a giant hole in its wake. Kaminari couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt his heart pounding like that as they passed the threshold into open air, though he'd put his money on the USJ incident. It honestly wasn't something that he could easily describe, that rush of adrenaline that had punched him in the gut when he turned back, Kirishima securely wrapped in his and Ashido's arms, and stared down a firing squad coming after them. For that single moment, Kaminari had wondered if this was how he died.

Thank goodness for Todoroki Shouto.

Kaminari tripped, nearly losing his balance and sending all three of them to the ground. Focus, Denki. _Focus_.

Ahead of them, Todoroki was walking silently, his eyes constantly darting over to the mall in question and watching any movement with intense scrutiny as the group took the long way around to the front entrance. Apparently, luck had been on their side for once, because the strange quirk deleting effect seemed to only happen at a certain distance from the mall. Todoroki himself had wandered off somewhere else before the madness had begun and came running at the first sign of trouble, rendezvousing with the three of them as they were retreating by complete chance. As soon as the deafening sound of gunshots filled the air, a wall of ice had erupted between them, giving them their much needed chance to run.

A moment later, Todoroki had been sprinting right behind them, a mild look of surprise on his face. Interestingly enough, the gunmen didn't pursue them any further.

Todoroki hummed. "I suppose there is a pattern, isn't there?"

"A bunch of trouble magnets, we are." Ashido practically spat, though from the look in her eyes, she probably didn't mean to speak that harshly. "Some more than others. Maybe we should just quarantine ourselves, you know?"

Kirishima snorted wetly. "I'd give you a week before you tried to break out."

Kaminari smiled despite himself. "I'd give her eleven minutes."

"Jokes on you, b*tches. Nineteen people is plenty of victims to talk to death before boredom sets in."

"Right."

"Less talk, more walk!" Kirishima said deceptively cheerfully. "I wanna get my leg fixed up so I can help!"

"Considering the circumstances," Todoroki spoke slowly, the beginnings of a scowl pulling at his lips. "I'm not sure how that would be possible. If we get too close, we can't use our quirks."

"But your ice crossed the threshold!" Kirishima exclaimed. "Maybe you're immune, somehow! Or you could cover us from a distance! H*ll, you could ice the mall! Maybe-!"

"If I just ice the mall without warning, I'll either scare the villains into killing any hostages they might have or I'll freeze them over myself by accident. It's too risky."

Kirishima fell silent at that, wincing at his leg as he stepped on it wrong and wobbled in his friends' grips. Ashido was biting her lip as they continued on, Kaminari himself almost being pulled along rather than helping carry the weight.

"I'm not saying that there's nothing we can do." Todoroki suddenly spoke up again, cutting through the silence. "I just don't know what we _can_ do yet. Let's just meet up with the others and discuss things together, okay?"

Kirishima seemed to brighten up at that, nodding fervently. Kaminari would have to thank Todoroki for cheering him up later.

It wasn't long before the flashing lights of emergency vehicles could be seen in the distance, heroes and police surrounding the entrance and beginning to circle around the building while civilians were grouping up far away from the action, just barely visible from where the four teenagers were. Between the two clusters of people, Kaminari could make out a couple of familiar features, such as a giant tail and multiple limbs webbed together. Seeing his crazy and wonderfully obnoxious classmates running around between the mingling pedestrians and active heroes, Kaminari felt his heart lighten just a little bit.

"Todoroki!?" a voice suddenly called out, the familiar slim form of Midnight jogging up to him a moment later. She noticed the three of them a moment later, her eyes scanning over them with practiced precision. Her gaze lingered on Kirishima's leg before her face hardened and she raised her hand to her communication device. "Eraserhead, this is Midnight. I just arrived on the scene and happened to find some of your students. Four in total, one with minor injuries."

"Have they not found everyone?" Todoroki asked, his voice lightly glazed with concern. Ashido bit her lip, her own features twisting into a strong grimace.

"It's one of my boys, isn't it?" she growled to herself. "I swear, if it's Dynamite, I'm locking him in my room like a princess in a tower and tying him in a straightjacket with pillows. Forget his pride."

"You sure that'd be effective?" Kaminari questioned. "All he has to do is pout at Kiri and he'll free him, no questions asked."

"I'm not that whipped." Kirishima mumbled.

Ashido wheezed at that, the return of her smile a refreshing sight, while Kaminari was left in a coughing fit. "The bromance is real." he choked out.

Meanwhile, in front of them, Todoroki looked unbelievably confused and Midnight was squealing something about the youth.

It wasn't long before the small group made it to their destination, Kirishima being whisked away to an ambulance to be patched up before he even had a chance to say no. Ashido stayed close, hovering by his side as her eyes scanned the sea of faces gathering around the mall. The longer she stood there idly, the more antsy she became. Though he was a little more subtle, Kirishima didn't seem much better off, his smile never reaching his eyes as he thanked the paramedics currently treating his leg.

Kaminari wasn't sure where Todoroki had wandered off to, but he realized very abruptly that they were left alone.

Wow. Thanks, man.

"Kaminari!" Midoriya's voice filtered through the murmur of police and heroes alike preparing for the worst as he ran up to the trio, Sero's lanky form just a few steps behind him. Something in Kaminari's chest relaxed at the sight of his shining eyes, relieved and unharmed as he immediately threw his arms around the electric quirk user with a smile.

"Thank goodness you guys are okay!" he exclaimed, his signature grin plastered firmly on his face. "You had me worried sick, dude!"

Kaminari chuckled. "Yeah, well, things happen, you know, bro?"

"Right, bro."

"Bro!"

Ashido snorted somewhere behind them, effectively pulling Sero's attention to Kirishima's injury. "What happened to your leg?"

Kirishima suddenly looked exhausted. "Uh... Things happen?"

Sero was quick to approach the redhead's side, opposite to Ashido, a reassuring smile on his face as the three hero students haphazardly attempted to sooth each other. It already looked like a mess in the process of being made, but if that wasn't the default state of their friend group, then Kaminari had absolutely no clue what they were.

Kaminari was about to join them when he felt a hand gently grab his shoulder. Turning around, he was met with Midoriya's concerned face. "Was it just the three of you?"

Kaminari furrowed his eyebrows. "Todoroki was with us. Is that not everyone?"

Midoriya seemed to visibly relax at the mention of Todoroki, but his thinly-veiled guard returned a moment later. "So Kacchan wasn't with you?"

Something in Kaminari tensed harshly. "No one's seen him?"

Midoriya bit his lip, his eyes filled with worry. "A bunch of us have been eavesdropping on the teachers... Kacchan and Jirou are both still missing."

It felt like it took an eternity for Kaminari to fully register the implications of what he was just told. It was almost as if he'd simultaneously short circuited and stalled out, yet not quite on the verge of a shut down.

Kaminari may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he'd like to think that he can handle a crisis, even if somewhere deep in his soul, he suddenly wanted to cry.

So, he took a sharp breath and hardened his gaze like Kirishima's skin. "So nobody knows where they are?"

Midoriya swallowed, shaking his head. "Yaoyorozu said that Jirou wasn't with them by the entrance in the initial attack and Sero said that Kacchan stormed off on his own before then, so no one has a clue."

"In that case, the last people to see him were probably me and Ashido." Kaminari supplied, peeking Midoriya's interest. Kaminari suddenly connected the dots and cringed. "He was really close to where the bombs went off..."

Midoriya's face fell at that, a multitude of scenarios likely racing through his head as Kaminari threw his hands up in peace. "Whoa! Hey now, don't forget! Explosions are his thing, and he's a fighter! I'm sure he's fine! That, and he's a recognizable face. I'm willing to bet that if the villains got to him, we'd hear about it."

Kaminari honestly had to pat himself on the back for his rational train of thought. Maybe he really was getting smarter! Meanwhile, Midoriya seemed to accept his reasoning for the time being, a wave of low, incoherent mumbling leaving his lips at dizzying speeds as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully and began to pace.

It wasn't long before the rest of the class gravitated together, Iida chopping at the air wildly as he ordered everyone to stay close and out of the heroes' way and Asui staying close to him as a source of calmness. Meanwhile, Uraraka and Todoroki ended up at Midoriya's side, watching in concern as he continued to walk in circles, his voice barely audible as he glared holes into the ground. From where Kaminari stood, he could see that Kouda had been crying, while Yaoyorozu was pale and on the verge of having a heart attack. Approaching the group for themselves, the rest of Kaminari's friends seemed to notice the missing faces almost immediately. The rest of them simply hovered, at a loss on what to do.

And Midoriya paused, his lips freezing mid-sentence as his gaze landed back on the mall and eyes narrowing with burning determination that would leave a lesser man breathless. There was no doubt in Kaminari's mind that Midoriya's analytical and strategic mind was working even faster than his own mouth could keep up with, not just for the sake of his missing friends, but for all of the civilians trapped inside that could protect themselves. Midoriya was a hero, after all, and one whose unique brilliance could quite possibly lead them to the very breakthrough they need to solve this mess.

Of course he would, and Kaminari would happily follow him into battle. In fact, he's pretty sure that that goes for every single student standing there at that moment.

And as Kaminari's eyes scanned their surroundings, falling on a group meeting between their teachers, where Aizawa was eying them all dangerously, he had a feeling that the underground hero was aware of this fact, too.

* * *

**Hmmm. Looks like Midoriya's already up to something...**

**Anyway, I've been thinking about this for a long time, so I'm just gonna come out with it. I'm thinking about not posting on this website anymore. I'll still be writing MHA fics, but posting on this site is becoming more like a chore than anything and I do this for fun, so I want to have fun writing it like all of you have fun reading it (I hope). I'm still gonna think it over, but if it comes down to that and those of you who enjoy my work want to read more, I will still be active on AO3 under the same username and all of my works are public. I don't know yet. We'll see. :)**

**Well, thanks for reading, guys and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	3. Decibel: The Rebellion

**Hey guys! :D**

**Sorry for the long wait. A bunch of my files disappeared and I lost a ton of progress, which kind of threw off my motivation. At least I got here before the new year, right? X)**

**I hope you enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

Hero training or not, he could already feel his anxieties crawling up his back. Then again, he didn't feel like anyone would blame him.

Midoriya wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there glaring at the occupied mall, his mind spinning wildly around every minute detail and every manner of scenarios, but glancing at his phone, he was pretty sure it'd at least been six minutes since the last time he checked the time. The crowd of heroes and police around him and the distant hustle and bustle of curious civilians left nothing but a symphony of resigned murmurs and best wishes to keep him company.

He hated the way his skin crawled and heartbeat drowned out so many other sounds. How he could feel every pebble under his shoes or every fiber of clothing rubbing against his skin. A brush of someone walking too close felt like a slap to the face and every breeze was like a hurricane blowing through. He hated the way his stomach was roiling and somersaulting, leaving him almost dizzy in the wake of a disaster.

The hero sense was truly a blessing and a curse.

"You doing alright, man?" Midoriya jumped at the sound of Kaminari's voice, his eyes darting to his face before immediately falling back on the offending building. Kaminari's shoe scraping against the ground was like fingernails against a chalkboard. "You haven't spoken to anyone in a while and people are starting to get worried."

Midoriya sighed. "Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine. Just...thinking."

They were quiet for a moment, Kaminari stuffing his hands in his pockets and watching the freckled boy intently. "You got a plan?" he asked almost hopefully.

Midoriya chewed his lip, brows furrowed, wracking his brain for answers that he might have missed at first glance. The mall was large, which would make it difficult to secure every section of it until you somehow gathered enough manpower to keep the place on total lock down. Realistically, that's most likely not the case, or the group of villains might have been noticed much, much sooner. It's much harder to hide an army than a small group of people after all. By that logic, there should be a weak spot somewhere in their defenses.

The quirk suppressor and the presence of hostages was what threw a wrench into everything. Taking Todoroki's experience into account, the barrier didn't effect quirks at a distance, meaning that objects or substances made by quirks were still usable once the user was under the effects of the suppressor. For example, Todoroki's ice or fire, or anything that Yaoyorozu can make.

He'd also list Kacchan's sweat as an example, but...

Midoriya shook his head. He could save that meltdown for later.

As much as he wished that he could just Detroit Smash the side of the mall from here and be done with it, the biggest problem still remained. As far as he knew, the location of the hostages was still unknown, and if these guys had taken advantage of that fact, then there was a chance that groups of them had been spread out throughout the building, so long-ranged quirks couldn't be used recklessly, lest they accidentally injure, or worse, kill somebody.

Putting all of that into consideration, the best course of action would be to find a way to locate the hostages, but _how_ they would do that was still in question, especially without quirks. If infiltration were to become an option, his first choice would probably be Asui, due to her relative size in comparison to his other classmates and her calm demeanor. By size in general, Mineta was also a viable option, but Midoriya wasn't sure if he'd be able to emotionally handle such an intense mission. At least, not yet. If they can't get to that point, technological infiltration might be a possibility, so he'd have to figure out who might be able to hack into the system for them to map everything out for them to plan counterattacks. Or, if someone could come up with a small and quiet enough design, drones could be a possibility. Maybe-

"Dude, take a breath. Please."

Midoriya suddenly gasped as if he'd been underwater, his body oddly deprived of oxygen, before turning to the electric blonde sheepishly. "Aha, sorry. Force of habit."

"Yeah..." Kaminari sighed, staring at his feet. If Midoriya hadn't known any better, he'd say that Kaminari hadn't slept in weeks from the way shadows danced across his face.

Midoriya frowned. "What about you? ...Are you okay?"

"Oh, wha- Me? Yeah, man! Yeah, I'm good. Just fine. I just..." Staring off at nothing, his tired expression slowly morphed into a grimace. "It's just that...you know. Blasty's one of my bros, you know? We're buddies. And Jirou, she's..."

He paused, searching for the right words as he stared holes into his shoes. "...Important. Jirou's important."

Midoriya simply nodded in understanding. "Right... Well, don't worry, Kaminari." he said with renewed vigor, determination hardening his eyes. "They're both strong, and with our help, they and everyone else will be safe and sound in no time."

Kaminari's eyes shot up to meet his own. "You have a plan?"

"...No yet. At least, not a complete one, but that's not gonna stop me."

A smile slowly spread across Kaminari's face. "Should've known I could count on you, man. You always come through."

Midoriya blushed at the praise, but simply swallowed and steeled himself for war.

The two of them were quick to rendezvous with the others. Most of his classmates were grouped together, a select few stragglers floating around the barricades for unknown reasons, though it wouldn't surprise Midoriya if it was to try and find information on their missing classmates. He could hear Iida's yelling from here, the tip of his hand rhythmically bouncing above the crowd as he habitually chopped at the air. As Midoriya approached, he could see Todoroki and Uraraka, the former staring up at Iida blankly and the later glancing off to the side sheepishly.

Off to the side, Kirishima's bright red hair caught his eye, his leg bandaged up but seemingly healed to some degree. There was a frustrated look on his face, only beat by the daggers that Ashido was glaring as she paced around behind him. Sero was just squatting on the ground watching with an uncharacteristic frown. Behind Iida were Asui and Yaoyorozu, Asui watching with interest as she rubbed an exhausted-looking Yaoyorozu's arm in a comforting manner.

With a huff, Kaminari sauntered over to his friend group, giving Sero a fist bump before fluidly spinning around and draping an arm over Kirishima's shoulders. Uraraka smiled and waved.

"Uraraka, pay attention!" Iida demanded. "This is serious!"

"Sorry. I know, I know."

"It doesn't mean we have to like it." Todoroki said casually, staring off to the side. Iida sputtered at that, Uraraka giving an apologetic smile to no one in particular.

"Just because our reckless acts of heroism have been met with success in the past doesn't mean that we are above consequences!" Iida stressed. "I am also concerned for our classmates and all of the civilians trapped inside, and am frustrated that I cannot help, but-!"

"We have our provisional licenses." Midoriya decided to interject, already caught up with what this discussion was about. "Technically, we can legally get involved-."

"We cannot act recklessly because it would not just be our lives at risk!" Iida exclaimed, his fiery gaze falling on Midoriya. "I should have known that you would advocate for this impulsive behavior!"

Midoriya pouted, his cheeks puffed out as he pulled at the hem of his shirt. "It's not impulsive if we go in with a well thought out plan!"

"Need I remind you of the ridiculousness of our escapades at Kamino?!"

"There was no time! So that particular plan was half-baked at best and we both know it! Now if you give me some time while new information is coming in and I'm not put on the spot with a few seconds at best to make a move, then maybe I can come up with something better!"

"That doesn't make acting out on your own any less dangerous for everyone involved! Again, Kamino!"

"It was just Kacchan then! Do you really think I'm gonna pull some crazy stunt like that when there are civilians involved!?"

"Guys, guys!" Yaoyorozu shouted. "This isn't the time to argue! Let's all take a moment to breathe, okay? This is a stressful situation and we all need to stay calm."

Midoriya bit back any retort that might be at the tip of his tongue, stepping back and taking a deep breath. Iida seemed to be doing the same, taking off his glasses to rub at his face. Now looking closer, Midoriya could start to see the exhaustion hidden behind the taller boy's eyes.

"Midoriya," Iida said slowly, his gaze practically boring into the One For All user's very soul. "I understand that you are worried. I am too, as class representative _and_ a friend. However, despite our legal ability to intervene, we are still inexperienced in comparison to the pros, even with our own experiences put into perspective. None of us have dealt with a large scale situation of this nature on our own, so it would be foolish to assume that we will know what's best and to try to handle this by ourselves."

Midoriya glared down at the ground, his hands lightly trembling as they clenched tightly into fists. "But...there has to be _something_ we can do. I- I can't stand just...doing nothing and letting this run its course. I'm sure the pros will let us help! We can legally-"

"Midoriya, if you were really so confident about the pros allowing us to assist them, then why do you have yet to approach Aizawa-sensei about it?"

Midoriya cringed at that, suddenly acutely aware of another pair of eyes scrutinizing them from a distance. Iida shook his head. "I figured as much."

"But I-"

Iida's loud sigh cut him off. "How are you feeling?"

Midoriya blinked. "Huh?"

"How are you feeling?" Iida repeated, tapping at his own temple.

Midoriya blinked at him owlishly, the gears in his head turning ever so slowly to decipher his meaning.

It hit him a moment later. "Oh! Oh... You mean my hero sense..." he bit his lip, pointedly ignoring the feeling of his stomach roiling and the prickling sensation running along his skin. "Yeah... It's...pretty active right now."

"I imagine that it's making all of this that much more difficult for you. Is there any method you know of that can help with your anxieties other than life threatening heroic actions?"

Midoriya laughed despite himself. "No, not that I know of. All Might just told me to ride through it, but I just-"

"Then if there really is no other option, I would recommend following his instructions."

Midoriya frowned heavily at that, returning to glaring holes into the ground below him. With one last sigh, Iida turned and left, his footsteps tired and slow, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Midoriya shook his head violently, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to ignore the overwhelming sense of helplessness that washed over him. He'd already had a lifetime to experience that and right here, right now, he didn't want to go back. Not ever.

"Deku?" Uraraka's voice filtered into his awareness. Looking over, he might have been more startled by how close her face was to his if he didn't feel like the world was crashing down around him and her eyes weren't swimming with a bizarre mix of concern and hope.

Almost as if in a daze, Midoriya could only offer her a weak, tired smile as his eyes once again drifted to the now disconcertingly quiet mall. Glaring coldly at the offending building, his hands curled tightly into fists at his sides, itching for action and yet completely useless. It hurt him, standing here watching as disaster unfolded directly in front of him, and all he could do was stand there and let it happen. The familiarity of it taunted him.

He wondered just how many innocent people were trapped inside.

"Deku." Uraraka tried again, just a little bit louder. Her presence pulled for his attention, both constant and reassuring, and yet, averting his vigilant gaze to meet her own almost felt like a betrayal, as if looking away for one moment could cost him the answers he was so desperately searching for. A tremor ran through his body when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I..." Midoriya stuttered, searching for the right words. Apparently, language was just as elusive as the right course of action in this mess. "I don't..."

"It's okay." she said slowly. "You don't have to have all the answers."

A part of him knew that was true. A part of him understood that he was still a kid, a teenager entering a brand new world and preparing to take on a greater responsibility than one could ever imagine.

And yet, there would always be a voice in the back of his head, sounding suspiciously like a younger Kacchan, preaching to him about why he would never be good enough.

"Deku," Uraraka spoke up again, her figure appearing as she stepped into his field of vision and blocked his view of the mall. "Deku, look at me."

Stomping down his frustration and ignoring the hammering of his heart caused by the pair of hands resting firmly on his shoulders, Midoriya met Uraraka's stare, a fiery blaze of emotion greeting him. He swallowed thickly, on the verge of being swept away by the sheer, raw energy churning and building behind her chocolate brown eyes.

"You don't have to have all the answers," Uraraka repeated, each word burning with conviction. "But if any of us are going to figure this out, it's you."

Midoriya's shoulders raised almost defensively, old but familiar feelings of fear and self-doubt swirling around in his stomach and making him nauseous. "I... I don't know, Uraraka. I just..."

He looked down, aggravation beginning to build in his veins as he glared holes into the earth underneath his feet. "I usually have it figured out by now. I've always been good at analysis and problem-solving and things of that nature. That's always been my thing."

He stared up at the sky longingly. It was a brilliant shade of blue that day. "But...these villains... I don't know who they are, but they've planned for just about every possibility and I- It's just got me frazzled and...and I can't think straight."

He dared to meet her gaze. The fire in her eyes threatened to burn him. "I don't know what to do...and that scares me."

Uraraka's eyes softened just the tiniest bit, and Midoriya felt as if he might melt under her caring gaze. What did he ever do to deserve a friend like this?

"It's okay." she said, so sure that it couldn't possibly be any less than true. Her hands left his shoulders, only to intertwine with his own fingers, a strong yet gentle grip. Her hold felt more grounding than he might have ever believed, as if she alone could keep him from sinking into the abyss of self-loathing and uncertainty. And yet, he was light, as if he were floating.

He checked his feet, still firmly planted on the ground.

"It's okay." she said again, and his eyes snapped back to hers, a building storm, a raging inferno so powerful that not even the mightiest villain could stand in their way. "Why? Because you're here."

It was as if he were staring at the sun itself, and yet his eyes didn't burn. She was radiating with an immeasurable something that he couldn't quite find the words to place; Something that took his breath away. "And if you're here, than there's nothing to worry about."

"I don't-" The words threatened to die in his throat as he stared up into shining brown irises. "I don't know if I can."

Her grip on his hands tightened, her face hardened with determination and a sureness that could never be shaken. "Well, if you don't believe in yourself, than I'll just have to believe in you twice as hard!"

"Uraraka-"

"Because you're the Deku who can do anything, remember?"

Suddenly, in that moment, Midoriya understood _exactly_ what Kacchan saw that day, in U.A.'s arena fighting toe to toe with a literal force of nature. He understood exactly how this girl had won his respect so easily.

Because there was this exhilaration pumping through his veins whenever he braved meeting her gaze, an entire hurricane, a roaring typhoon tightly encapsulated within two single points and ready to burst. It was bright, almost blinding, and Midoriya had never felt so small and so powerful all at the same time. He suddenly realized that until now, he'd never truly felt like he was on top of the world.

In that moment, he was the Deku who could do anything.

And then, from his peripheral vision, he vaguely registered the color pink and a cheshire grin, and reality came crashing back down.

"You two need a minute?" Ashido cooed smugly.

Midoriya suddenly became acutely aware of his position, his fingers tightly grasping Uraraka's own in a way that left very little to the imagination. Feeling the heat radiating off of his face, he was pretty sure that he was turning some obscure shade of magenta.

Apparently, he and Uraraka reached the same conclusion at the exact same time, because both of them launched backwards with twin screams, flailing widely. Uraraka's own face turned such a bright pink that her rosy cheeks blended in perfectly. Somewhere off to the side, Midoriya was pretty sure he could hear both Kaminari and Sero laughing.

"So manly." Kirishima cried with tears in his eyes. Midoriya wasn't sure what he was referring to, but he wished he would just stop.

"I-i-it's not what it looks like!" Uraraka shrieked. "We were just having a pep talk!"

"Y-yeah!" Midoriya cut in. "Th-thanks for that, Uraraka!"

"Yeah, no problem!"

"I feel like I can move mountains!"

"What are friends for!"

"You're a really great friend!"

"Best friends!"

Kaminari and Sero had both devolved into choking and wheezing fits respectively. Ashido just continued to look smug.

The sound of someone clearly their throat was a welcome distraction as Midoriya's eyes flew over to where Asui was still standing. Somehow, he'd forgotten that she and Yaoyorozu were still there. "Yes! Yes, Asui-"

"Tsu-chan."

"T- Tsu-chan, you have something to say?"

"Well, I don't mean to interrupt...whatever this is, kero. I just, uh, Kaminari said that I might be able to help?"

Midoriya blinked at her for a moment, a deer in the headlights as the cogwheels in his head slowly started turning. For a moment, he didn't have a clue what she was talking about. He didn't even remember where he was. What time was it?

_If infiltration were to become an option, his first choice would probably be Asui-_

Midoriya gasped, his gaze flickering over to Kaminari, only to be greeted with a thumbs up from the electric blonde, his face planted into the ground for no discernible reason. It almost warmed his heart to know that at least someone bothered to listen to his mumbling tirades.

"I- Yeah, maybe, once I think of something."

"So there's still no solid plan?" Sero asked, tone unsure.

Midoriya bit his lip, his expression grim. "Not yet. Whoever these villains are, they came well prepared. But..."

He glanced at Uraraka, who met his eyes easily. She waited expectantly.

"But, I'll figure something out." he said slowly, mostly to himself. Something inside his heart seemed to burst to life, and his determination came roaring back. "Yeah, I'll think of something. I just need time."

Her smile was all the reassurance he needed.

"Perhaps we can ask others in our class?" Todoroki spoke up, making everyone jump. Midoriya may or may not have had a heart attack.

"_Wow_, I forgot you were there." Kaminari coughed out.

"Yes, I've been here the whole time." He responded blankly. He turned back to Midoriya. "You shouldn't have to figure this out by yourself. Maybe if we gathered everyone whose willing to get involved and brainstorm amongst ourselves, then we'll come up with a course of action faster."

It took Midoriya an embarrassingly long time to comprehend what he was just told.

_ You don't have to have all the answers._

He almost slapped himself at the realization. "Todoroki, you're a genius! I can't believe I didn't even consider that!"

There was a moment where Midoriya could see clearly, a moment where he took in the fact that he had a course of action. A moment where he knew what to do.

For a moment, he felt like he ruled the world.

"Okay." He said, his eyes hardened and unyielding. "In that case, let's spread out, find our classmates, and talk to them. I can't say how many of them will be up for it, but if nothing else, I'm pretty sure that all of us here are in on this, right?"

"Right!" Uraraka cheered, Asui pausing for a moment before she took a deep breath and nodded. Kacchan's friend group all gave hardy cheers while Todoroki simply gave him a small smile.

"I..."

Midoriya turned, and suddenly, all eyes were on Yaoyorozu. She stiffened under the attention, shrinking into herself as she searched for the right words. Midoriya could practically feel her uncertainty from here.

On one hand, she might want to follow the rules. Avoid any more trouble than there already was. On the other, her best friend was in there.

Her face tightened with emotion. "Midoriya, I-"

"No one's forcing you." Midoriya told her quickly, a small pinprick of pain etching its way into his heart. For what, he wasn't sure. "You don't have to do this again."

Again.

_ A warm night on a dirty street, in cheap wigs and uncomfortable clothing, not even ten feet away from the most dangerous and powerful villain in the entire history of Japan. _

She looked conflicted, fiddling with the hem of her skirt as her eyes fell to the ground. She swayed slightly, her lips trembling and brain moving a million miles a second. It physically hurt Midoriya, how close she looked to crying.

"I- I'm sorry." her voice cracked. "I don't know, I just... I don't want to endanger anyone, and there's so many civilians, and..."

She looked up at them, looking over their faces, searching for her voice. Midoriya tried to give her the most reassuring smile he could muster, but he knew he was no Uraraka. Her gaze fell again. "I... I'll think about it...and I'll be rooting for you, whatever happens... And I won't tell Iida."

Midoriya smiled. "Thanks. That's all I can really ask for."

Before she could reply, he turned on his heel. "As for everyone else, we have an objective. We'll all meet back here in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir!" they all shouted, and Midoriya felt his face heat up all over again.

For a moment, he felt like he ruled the world.

* * *

"So, basically, if I'm getting all of this right, you were near the epicenter of the explosion,"

"Uh-huh."

"Which incapacitated you for a little bit,"

"Okay, I wouldn't say _that_-"

"And when you tried to fight the guards anyway, you couldn't use your quirk."

"Apparently."

"But you got away because I guess these guys have Stormtrooper aim and couldn't shoot you for sh*t."

"F*cking amateurs."

"So you played reconnaissance in the vents until you came and saved us."

"_You're welcome_, by the way-"

"And now we're here."

"...Pretty much, yeah."

Jirou huffed, lightly rubbing at her forehead. What had her life become?

She hadn't known what she was expecting, but the vents were surprisingly roomy, tall enough that she could almost stand up straight and wide enough to sit down and stretch out her legs. It was ridiculously cold, though, cool air traveling through the mall as if the sun itself was about to crash into them and this was humanity's last effort to not melt into puddles of goo.

Okay, maybe it wasn't _that _bad, but it was still pretty chilly.

The bad part about traveling through the vents that Bakugou had very expressly warned them about was how loud their footsteps could be, practically a big, bright, neon target sign made entirely out of sound for the guards to come investigate, so the three of them had to move painfully slowly.

Which meant that they had to be extremely patient with themselves.

Jirou was impressed that Bakugou hadn't had an aneurysm or something.

"You sure they're not watching us right now?" Jirou question skeptically.

Hamuro's grip on Jirou's shirt tightened. "They... They do put...cameras in here."

"Not around here." Bakugou replied nonchalantly. "I didn't come across any, anyway. I've been through here already." He turned, looking her dead in the eyes, his own narrowed. "I know what I'm doing."

"Right." Jirou snorted, earning a fierce glare. Hamuro ducked behind her to avoid eye contact. "Where does this lead, anyway?"

"Could be a lot of places, really."

"Wait, so you don't know where we're going?"

"Why the _f*ck_ would I have the entire layout of this dump's vent system memorized? I'm not usually ducking around in here, Earlobes."

She hummed. "I mean, I guess."

Inching further into the maze of vents, Jirou almost missed the tug on her shirt disappearing, her head turning just in time to catch Hamuro hunching over a grate in an almost comically exaggerated manner, staring intently down at the floor below. A look of recognition crossed her features, an excited gasp escaping her lips as her head shot up. "Guys, I know-!"

"_Shhh! _Keep your f*cking voice down!" Bakugou whispered harshly, his expression and posture rigid. Hamuro threw her hands over her mouth in response, a flash of fear overtaking her face.

For a moment, there was nothing but ear grating silence, as if they'd all truly gone deaf, but literally a second later, Jirou heard it.

Footsteps. Lots of them.

Oddly enough, it was less any kind of fear that Jirou felt and more so some strange forms of frustration and discomfort. Realizing that Bakugou had heard something before her was like a hard slap in the face, a reminder of the currently useless strings of meat dangling from her ears. It wasn't even her fault. It wasn't even only her that was rendered quirkless, and yet, for some reason, she'd never felt more useless in her entire life.

Carefully peering towards the grate, Jirou could see the people passing below them, waves of civilians walking right by, led by more of those armed guards with the strange belts, and it absolutely killed her inside that there were heroes literally sitting above these people's heads and they could do nothing but watch.

And it seemed that Bakugou's train of thought was going in a similar direction, judging by the way his face contorted in a mix of anger and resignation and how his hands twitched wildly. By the look in Hamuro's eyes, barely visible behind her thick glasses, she was picking up on this too.

It felt like eons before the group passed by, Hamuro looking up with concern as the pair of heroes in training slowly began to loosen up. Jirou hadn't even realized she'd been so tense until she allowed her shoulders to drop and she was met with a dull ache.

"I, uh..." Hamuro tried quietly, her eyes shifting to Bakugou warily. He cocked an eyebrow at her, which she took as an invitation to proceed. "I know where we are... I can take us somewhere safe."

His other eyebrow shot up. "You know the vents?"

"Aha..." she almost sounded sheepish. "I've, uh, done my research. I've mentioned to Jirou that my uncle owns a shop here, and that my auntie pays the bills, but...there's more to it than that. You see-."

"Just point the way, kid."

"Er- Right...and you can't be that much older than me."

Hamuro's apparent safe spot wasn't that far away, but it felt like it took ages to get there, all three of them freezing at every possible sound that reached their ears. Jirou absolutely hated this, this feeling of running blind, _deaf_, but she simply swallowed her paranoia and moved forward. After all, she didn't have much of a choice.

"My name is Hamuro, by the way."

"I don't care."

"Ah- Oh..."

Dejectedly, Hamuro paused at another grate, peering down at the floor below before pulling a screwdriver out of seemingly nowhere with a new glint in her eyes.

"Earlobes," Jirou tried not to jump at the sudden sound of his voice. "Hold the grate so it doesn't fall and make a bunch of noise. I'll go in first."

Jirou breathed. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan."

Compared to the journey getting there, removing the grate was blissfully quick, Hamuro quickly and efficiently screwing it loose while Jirou held it in place, carefully sliding it back into the vent so it didn't clatter to the ground and alert any pursuers. Without wasting a moment, or even checking for villains first like a sane person, Bakugou just slid through without a moment's hesitation, landing in a crouched position with a practiced grace. He paused, scanning the area around him before slowly standing up and walking out of sight. Jirou swallowed, the silence already beginning to get to her again. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he'd just suddenly disappeared altogether.

A shudder ran through her system, the realization that that could happen and she wouldn't even know about it setting her nerves on fire.

"Jirou?" Hamuro asked carefully, Ham climbing up her sweater to sit on her shoulder and peer at the purple haired girl with interest.

Jirou took a moment to breathe, her heart pounding out of her chest as she swallowed thickly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

Hamuro nodded, her eyes falling back to the now opened grate. "He's weird."

The comment was so unexpected that Jirou had no chance to suppress her violent snort. "Yeah? Yeah, he's... He's something."

"He's scary."

Jirou's gaze softened. That was a much more common description. "Yeah, he's always like that. Real intense, right?"

Hamuro nodded, curling into herself. Jirou sighed. "Don't take it personally. He's like that with everyone. It takes some getting used to, but once you get to know him, you'll be glad he's on our side. Trust me."

Hamuro seemed to brighten somewhat at that, and Jirou couldn't help but smile. "Also, don't worry if he starts calling you some weird nickname. He can't remember names for sh*t."

"I heard that."

The two girls peered back down the grate opening, Jirou reveling in the light feeling of relief at the glowering face staring back at her. "That's a lie and you know it. I just can't be bother to put effort into something as unimportant as some extras' names."

"Uh-huh."

His glare could have turned her to stone, but he looked away a moment later, staring off at something they couldn't see. "Whatever. Cost is clear, either way. We're pretty secluded here, from the looks of it."

With a long exhale, Jirou nodded to no one in particular, motioning for Hamuro to come closer. She hesitated for a moment, crawling over to her as Jirou slowly lowered herself through the opening. The drop was somewhat high, but nothing she couldn't handle, landing smoothly onto the carpeted floor.

Eyes scanning their surroundings, it didn't take rocket science to deduce that they were now in a clothing shop, hanging displays and shelves thrown around in what looked to have been a scuffle for the ages. The homey greens, browns, and golds of the decor were thoroughly ripped apart and scuffed beyond being salvageable. Jirou grimaced at the torn clothing strewn about the room, not even wanting to know how much in property damage this room alone would cost.

The counter, a nice, dark colored wood, had scratches coating it, as if someone had been digging their nails into it in fear of being dragged away, only to be overpowered. An involuntary shudder ran down Jirou's spine, ignoring the way the once elegant furniture was chipped and dented and the accessory displays were broken and scattered around the room. She noted the walking hazard that it created for the time being. She'd rather not risk experiencing the equivalent of stepping on a lego, even if she was wearing shoes.

On the other side of the store, Bakugou was moving a shelf to cover the doorway as quietly and quickly as possible, using the well placed carpets as cover for any extra sound that the movements might make. Once satisfied with his work, he started digging through the mess of fabric, most likely with the goal of covering windows, if Jirou had to make an educated guess.

Jirou let a small smile grace her lips. Hamuro really helped them out on thi-

Oh right, Hamuro.

Jirou snapped up towards the open vent, where the orange haired girl would still be waiting. "Sh*t, sorry. Let me help-"

If anyone asked, no, she did _not_ startle when a body fell from the sky next to her.

With a small 'oof'', the young girl landed very shakily on her feet, wobbling for a moment before finally tipping backwards with a silent but wild flailing motion and hitting the floor on her butt. Ham clung desperately to her sweater with a look of blinding panic as Hamuro blinked up at Jirou, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "I got it."

"Uh... Right." Normally, Jirou might roll her eyes at the unimpressed '_tch_' from somewhere behind her, but honestly, she didn't have a better response to offer.

Dusting herself off, Hamuro scrambled to her feet, practically dancing around the mess of debris in order to skitter behind the ruined counter. A small 'woo!' followed soon after.

"The h*ll's her deal, anyway?" Again, Jirou did _not_ startle. She couldn't be that jumpy.

"Not sure," Jirou answered coolly, ignoring what was the equivalent of a sledgehammer pounding against her ribs. "But she's gotta have a plan of some kind. I only met her today, but she seems like a smart kid."

Bakugou scrutinized his classmate, expression hardened and tense as he glanced back at the blocked doorway before looking back at her. Jirou wasn't sure if the wariness was subconscious or not, but she didn't blame him either way.

She pursed her lips. "So, now what?"

It wasn't a question that should have sent pins and needles running through Jirou's body, even as it left her mouth, but she'd never been at this kind of disadvantage and as much as she wanted to stay strong, it was hard when she felt like a cornered animal. Meanwhile, Bakugou bit his lip at the question, eyes averting to the floor and face scrunching up, deep in thought. A part of Jirou suddenly felt a spike of jealousy, almost desperate for that steadfast sureness in oneself that rolled off of him in waves, making that self-confidence and fearlessness in the face of impossible odds seem so painfully easy.

She was a hero. It should be natural.

But even though she could pretend, it just wasn't, and that killed her inside.

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she gave a contemplative look of her own, masking her immense overall discomfort. "I mean, normally, you'd be able to mow an army of lackeys down no problem and I could take out a bunch of them without anyone even noticing, but we're kinda quirkless right now."

She didn't miss the way her classmate twitched at the word, but she pressed on anyway. "So, what do we do now? Because we don't know why we can't use our quirks or where all the hostages are. We don't even know who these villains are. We've got nothing to work off of."

Bakugou was quiet for a moment longer, a twitch in his brow and a deeper frown than usual before took a deep breath and nodded to himself. "We fix that, then."

"Huh?"

"It's easier than you're making it out to be. All we have to do is get everyone's quirks back."

Jirou gave him a questioning look. "...Okay. Yeah, sure. Everyone gets there quirks back, and that sets off a domino effect. The pros can infiltrate the building and the hostages can fight back, as can we. Great. Fantastic. How do we do that?"

"First things first," he responded without missing a beat. "We gotta map out our location, which means getting a map of this mall. That'll put us at less of a disadvantage. The less the villains know that we don't, the better."

Jirou blinked. That hadn't even crossed her mind. She almost felt embarrassed.

Bakugou growled to himself. "The problem is getting a hold of one."

A new voice butted in. "I have schematics of the building!"

"Wait, _what_?"

Whirling around towards the counter, they were met with Hamuro's grinning face, having pulled a laptop out from under the counter top and proudly showing off a professional schematic drawing of the entire shopping mall. The girl's eyes were literally sparkling. "First of all, don't worry about tracking. I've cut all ties with the network. Anyway," She pointed vaguely at the screen. "Here, I have the entire layout, including stores, halls and walkways, storage areas and docks, and all of the vent systems. I also have a couple of my own notes, since I've kinda done a lot of exploring in the past. Please don't tell Uncle Nao, though. I, uh, wasn't suppose to. Oh yeah, and this extra floor-"

"Shut the f*ck up for two d*mn seconds!" Bakugou was fighting not to yell, which was a commendable feat. "Good lord, your chattering is almost as bad as Deku's."

Storming up to the counter and slamming a hand against it, he aimed his fierce glare straight at Hamuro, the girl on the verge of cowering away from his sheer intensity, but attempting to put together a shakily confident and friendly smile, nonetheless. "So let's back up for a second. Why do you have this, and _why_ didn't you _tell_ us you had this? That would've been nice to f*cking know!"

Beads of sweat gathering on her brow, Hamuro's eyes drifted away as she pulled at the collar of her shirt. "Ah, well, like I'd been trying to say back in the vents, my uncle works here and my aunt is rich, but there's more to it."

Her bright smile returned, stars practically dancing around her head. "So, the mall was actually commissioned to be built be a distant relative of mine, and I know them, and was even friends with one of them. A cousin of some kind, but I don't remember how exactly. He was a bit older than me, though. Anyway, we would explore the place and he had access to all this stuff and let me see it, and I couldn't tell you why, but I kept it on this USB!"

She gestured to the stick plugged into the side of the laptop. Jirou didn't remember seeing her pick that up. "I keep a lot of blueprints and stuff like that on there that I think are cool, since, you know, I wanted to be a hero, but then realized that I'm not very physically strong, but support is definitely an option! I kept all this stuff as references for later, and I guess I kinda left these schematics on there, too. Good thing I did, huh?"

Waving her hands dramatically around the computer screen, she sparkled as if she were gold sitting directly in the morning sun. She almost looked expectant, waving for the affirmative that she did a good job, that she was useful.

Jirou snerked, watching as Bakugou wordlessly pulled the laptop across the counter and began to study it, earning a pout from the completely ignored orange haired girl.

"This is great, Hamuro." Jirou said with a wink. "Really helpful. Thank you."

Hamuro beamed.

"Well sh*t," Bakugou suddenly said, both girls turning to him. "If this is where we are, then we're in better shape than I thought."

"What do you mean?" Jirou asked, inching as close to his side as she might be allowed in order to see the screen.

"Here." He pointed to a specific square on the screen, and a small part of Jirou was oddly validated that she was acknowledged and still allowed in his personal space, even if it was a serious situation. "This is where we are, and theoretically, right here..."

Jirou's eyes widened as she read the words. "A security station."

"We got some options here." Bakugou said to no one in particular, tapping the screen as a feral grin slowly spread across his face. "Communication, mapping, spying, we play our cards right, and we'll already have the upper hand."

"Can I also say something?" Hamuro interrupted, raising her hand as a surge of confidence lit up her face like a Christmas tree. "Somehow, we also need to find a way back to Hamuro Electroniko."

Jirou's brows furrowed. "Why back there?"

"The back room." she explained. "There's some stuff in there that could be really, really useful, and also stuff that I'd feel better having with me instead of leaving it there unguarded."

_No matter what happens, no one is allowed into that backroom. Do not let them know. _Do not let them get in_. Do you understand me?_

Hamuro's expression became serious as she looked at the two older teens with worry. "The problem is that there aren't any vents that lead directly from inside this store to inside of that one, so we'd have to go out in the open."

Her eyes hardened, and suddenly, she looked a lot older than she actually was. "It's dangerous, but I really do think that it's worth the risk."

Jirou looked down at her shoes, a wave of uncertainty overtaking her. Glancing over at Bakugou, he seemed to be deep in thought, considering his options rationally like an actual hero instead of spiraling into panic like how Jirou felt she was going to at any second. There were options. There were courses of action that could be taken. And yet, Jirou was stuck.

What was the better choice? What would be more important?

What advantage could they get from getting into security?

What advantage could they get from whatever is behind that backroom door?

If they did one, would they have the chance to do the other, or would the villains already be onto them?

Jirou breathed slowly. She needed to focus. Put all of her attention on one goal and just go for it. Hesitation wasn't an option. Failure wasn't an option.

Even quirkless, she was still a hero.

And that meant taking risks.

"I'll go to the backroom by myself."

Two pairs of eyes bore into her, and Jirou had to fight not to tense up under their gazes. "I'm the best at stealth here. Reconnaissance is my thing. I may not be able to hear as well as I normally could right now, but I can still _hear_."

She steeled herself, the air entering her lungs like water dousing the flames setting her nerves ablaze. "Let me handle that part. That way, we can kill two birds with one stone. Break into the security room, do whatever you can get done, and we'll meet back here."

The conflicted look hiding behind Bakugou's eyes made her waver for a moment, but only for a moment. She'd made her choice.

He sighed. "Fine, if you're so sure of yourself, but no one's coming to save you if you get caught. Tangerine Dream, you're with me."

Hamuro jolted. "Wha- Wait, me?"

"No, the f*cking Easter bunny. Yes, you, dumba*s! Like _h*ll_ you're being left here like a sitting duck or going out there when you're head is basically a big orange target sign!"

Hamuro seemed entirely speechless for a moment, the gears turning in her head to try and decipher the fistful of words that were just chucked at her face. She suddenly gasped. "Do I get to help?! I can help! I know how to hack and-"

"Shut! _up!_"

She froze mid-sentence, almost as still as a statue, before she broke out of her daze, a giddy excitement taking over her being as she came running out from behind the counter, clicking her heels and saluting him. "Sir, yes sir!"

The look he gave her could only be described as the way Jirou looked at Kaminari whenever he randomly spouted his 'shower thoughts'.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Bakugou shook himself out of his stupor, looking the two girls over. An overwhelming heaviness fell over the trio. "Whatever. In that case, we've got a game plan. Earlobes, get whatever it is that the Nerdette over here thinks we need so badly. Tangerine head, you're coming with me to that security station. Neither of you better f*ck this up, 'cause I ain't saving your a*ses."

What scared Jirou the most was that he didn't really mean that. He may be a complete d*ckhead, but he was in the hero course for a reason. He was still here with them instead of taking Shigaraki's offer and off gallivanting with the League for a reason. Begrudgingly or not, he'd come to her aid if he could. If she needed him, he'd save her if he could.

But he can't.

She was on her own, throwing herself into the fray by herself. No back up, no safety nets. This was the real deal, and she was going in with nothing.

And she was terrified.

And yet, it was the most exhilarating feeling in the world. The thrill. This desire to succeed. To _save_.

It was moments like this that she remembered exactly why she wanted to be a hero.


	4. Symposium: The Roster

**An uncensored version of Our Hero now exists on ao3. Feel free to go check it out!**

**Anyway, yay! New Schrodinger's Heist chapter! And the day before my birthday, too! X)**

**So, I was expecting to start getting into some action in this chapter, but while setting things up, the chapter really started to drag. I love long chapters just as much as the next guy, but in this case, it would really mess up the pacing. :/**

**At this rate, there's NO WAY this is only gonna be thirteen chapters. X) Oh well. **

**Enjoy some more set up, I suppose. I'm sorry if this chapter isn't quite up to par, but the next one should make up for it. Meanwhile, I need to, like, actually sleep or something. Yeah, that sounds really nice right about now.**

* * *

"_Keep moving_."

A woman gasped, a child's cry ringing out as her hurried footsteps fell into sync with the crowd around them. The atmosphere was stifling, almost suffocating, leaving the throngs of people desperate for just one gasp of fresh, clean air to rejuvenate their collectively wild heartbeats.

Looking around himself, Hamuro Naofumi was no hero, but in that moment, he wished for nothing more than some way to ease the suffering he was now surrounded by.

Even from where he was, deep within the large group of people, he could see bruised faces and blood dripping from fellow hostages' foreheads. It terrified him just how many children were there, though the fact that not a single one of them appeared to have been touched was a small mercy. It still didn't quite calm the wardrums pounding against his old, battered ribs.

Every once in a while, he could hear other groups passing nearby, thousands of footsteps ricocheting through the otherwise quiet halls of the occupied mall. He never looked though, not willing to crane his neck up and make himself a target just to get an eyeful of more people in the same miserable situation as them. Other times, there would be shouting, the sounds of a chase as yet more escapees were hunted down and found themselves at the mercy of their captors. The memory of Mika's wide, terrified eyes nearly choked him.

Noafumi had always been called eccentric, but if nothing else, he could at least say that he was seeing eye to eye with everybody else here right now. He'd never been much for crowds in the first place, but this...

The clicking of firearms had everybody freezing, multiple shouts of fright floating through spacious halls, and Naofumi held his breath, only now daring to lift his gaze from the tiled floor. He didn't know what floor they were on, as the mall was multiple stories tall and absolutely huge, but they were definitely in one of its many plazas, a balcony overlooking whatever lower floors there were below them a good distance away from where they'd been stopped.

"_Sit_." someone commanded, and the entire crowd dropped to the ground, parents and siblings pulling young children down with them in fear for their lives. Naofumi ignored the creaking in his joints as he lowered himself to the ground, finding a strange sort of solace in the light murmur that was sweeping through the crowd of civilians and almost covering up the slowly fading footsteps echoing through the desolate building.

He also tried to ignore the armored guards surrounding them, standing at attention with weapons drawn, but he was finding it understandably difficult to do so.

Naofumi jumped at the sound of running, two of the guards jogging to the front of the crowd with what looked like spotlights as they set them up and dramatically turned them on, the people in the front of the crowd flinching from the bright lights suddenly assaulting their vision. Naofumi himself found himself squinting.

The clicking of flat heels was one of the most ominous sounds he'd ever heard, leaving his heart beating a million times a second and setting his nerves on fire. It was a simple sound, someone walking, yet it was one of the loudest things he'd ever heard. He almost felt like a child, back in school and sitting in a classroom as the scariest teacher in the entire institution walked in to start the lesson. The steps were peppy, however, almost skipping, and nothing had ever felt so deafening as the sound of happy whistling that came with it.

With a final click, a figure stepped out in front of them, posture straight and almost exaggerated as the villain grinned back at them. Combed-back black hair down to his neck, sharp nose, strangely kind-looking eyes.

"Greetings!" he suddenly shouted, making half of the crowd jump. He had the decency to look at least somewhat sheepish. "Another round of friends, I see. So pleased to meet you all."

The villain, Schrodinger, if Naofumi heard over the intercoms correctly, relaxed, kicking his foot out and running a hand through his hair. "As I told the last group, first and foremost, I would like to apologize for the inconvenience during your nice morning shopping excursion, as well as whole-heartedly thank you all for your participation in this little project of mine!"

Is this guy being serious right now?

He humbly bowed, a serene smile on his face. "I wish I could explain myself better, as some of you most certainly deserve an explanation,"

_ Some?_

"However, I must request that you all be patient with me. Just sit tight, cooperate, and everything will be a-okay!"

Three guards scurried to either side of him as he waved his arms flamboyantly. Schrodinger seemed to eye the two to his right, but his happy facade never left, turning to the one on his left who was now holding what looked like an airplane seat belt. "Now remember, everyone! Keep your hands and feet within the group boundaries at all times, as outliers and stragglers wandering too far from the group could get hurt, and it would be best to avoid that if possible."

With exaggerated movements, the guard clicked the belt together just as Schrodinger tugged on it, proving it to be more elastic than it should be. With a sly grin, he released it, smacking the guard's helmet with a loud _crack!_ and startling him.

A small child's laughter could be heard from the front, the villain beaming as he smoothly stepped in front of a teenager girl, a giggly toddler in her lap. The girl flinched harshly, clutching the boy to her chest as Schrodinger bent down to the child's eye level. "Someone once told me that skits are a wonderful teaching tool. Children tend to remember more when they're having fun. Isn't that right, little one?"

The little boy laughed, Schrodinger rubbing the kid's head affectionately as he abruptly stood and skipped back to his place in the spotlight, between the three guards. This time, it was blatantly obvious how his eyes lingered on the ones to his right.

He suddenly clapped his hands together. "Anywho, I believe that is all I had to say for the time being, so sit tight and relax. You're the last group coming through here, so feel free to make yourselves comfortable."

With that, he stepped to the right, where large pillars and a small, shadowy opening were situated. He walked behind the two guards, eying them curiously, and for whatever reason, Naofumi felt his heart rate pick up even further.

He tapped one on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir or ma'am, but I believe you forgot your role. Only your partner here was suppose to approach the stage. Weren't you at rehearsals? I made quite the stink about choreography."

The guard paused, almost as if confused, but then suddenly rubbed their helmet sheepishly. "Oh, right. Sorry, sir." a distinctly male voice responded. "Guess I got caught up in the moment."

Schrodinger stared up at him blankly, expression entirely devoid of personality, and Naofumi felt a shiver run down his spine as the villain's smile returned. "I see... Yes, I understand. Nerves can do that to you. You can rest elsewhere if you'd like. Relax a little." He waved the other guard off. "Both of you."

"Thank you, sir." they both responded, the second guard immediately walking away. Schrodinger smiled fondly at him as he went, looking up at the lingering first guard with a kind grin before turning to look over the crowd, hands in the pockets of his black and green coat.

"Nice crowd, this one." he commented. "One of the better ones, actually. Some of the others were tough." He sighed loudly. "Couldn't see any silver linings, I suppose."

The guard shrugged. "I mean, it's kinda hard to in a situation like this, you know? Held here against their will for your own sick games."

"Oh?"

And the next thing anyone knew, the guard had Schrodinger in a tight headlock.

Schrodinger gasped, eyes slightly widened as other guards immediately had their guns up. Several people let out shocked gasps and shouts, families clinging to each other and lone bystanders simply watching in awe. It was as if the atmosphere of the room had flipped, a complete one-eighty. Suddenly, everything had come to life.

The guard lifted a gun to Schrodinger's head. "Any of you make a move and I'm ending this right here, right now."

"Who are you!?" one guard shouted.

"Did a hero breach us?!" screeched another.

"But wait!" came yet another. "Heroes aren't allowed to kill!"

The rogue guard breathed shakily. "If it means saving these people..." he warned. "Then I'll happily sacrifice my reputation."

The noise from the trapped crowd slowly began to rise in volume, shouts and cheers of awe and excitement overcoming them and leaving them all in a twisted mess of uncontrollable emotion. Some part of Naofumi felt the deepest feelings of relief dig into his now battered heart, thoughts of his young niece painting his vision bright pastel colors in the wake of what he realized was hope.

Schrodinger choked in the apparent hero's death grip. "I would...say that...this was u- unex...pected, but-" he gasped painfully, the hero's grip tightening. "It's- _nghh_, ...really not."

"Shut your d*mn mouth, villain." the hero warned. "I know how integral you are to whatever your ultimate goal is. Your lackeys won't risk getting you killed. It's over."

"Is it?" he drawled, his voice barely a whisper from his vocal cords being crushed. "Because...disguises are...the oldest trick in the book."

The hero's head tilted questioningly. Schrodinger's grin was manic. "Why else...would I leave...a _weak spot?_"

The hero's posture suggested that he'd wanted to say something when his body suddenly jolted, freezing rigidly where he stood. Schrodinger calmly pulled himself out of his grip, coughing hoarsely and casually dusting himself off as the hero bonelessly collapsed, hitting the floor with a loud clang.

People within the crowd screamed in shock and fear, Naofumi watching silently with wide eyes as a young woman stood over the now bleeding hero, a bloody knife in her hand. Her eyes were that of pure hatred, the short, uncontrollably wild white hair framing her freckled face doing nothing to soothe her death glare, her bright yellow eyes practically glowing. Her golden suit gleamed in the mall's fluorescent lighting, beams cascading through and bouncing along the halls as if it were some kind of demented light show.

"You would think that a hero such as yourself would know better than to attack a group of villains alone with this many hostages." Schrodinger chastised. "I will admit that you were right. I would much prefer to live and see this through, thank you so very much, though my true depths are absolutely _none of your concern, _but imagine how many people might have died if you'd managed to kill me! Villains don't exactly play fair. We like getting our revenge, no matter the reason."

The villain crouched down, looking at the fallen hero with pity as he struggled to crawl. "And here's another tip, little hero. When someone who is clearly suspicious of you turns their back, they just might be baiting you." He gingerly removed the hero's stolen helmet. "You shouldn't be so hasty. Also, loosen up a little, you stick-in-the-mud. I bet you're terrible at parties."

Naofumi felt his breath leave him. Naofumi felt his breath leave him. The guy couldn't possibly be any older than twenty one, smooth slivery hair spilling over his face, baby fat still just barely clinging to it as his expression twisted in pain. It wouldn't surprise him if he'd just debuted, or was still just a sidekick. The knife wound in his lower back, painting his midsection a bright crimson, suddenly stood out even more as Schrodinger's brows shot up. "Oh, you're young. That would explain it. Experience can be quite an affective weapon when utilized properly."

"_You b*stard_."

"Now, now. No need to be so hostile." Schrodinger scolded. "I'm not planning on hurting you any more, as it seems my lovely assistant did quite the number on you already. Thank you, Umineko." The woman preened at his mentioning of her. "But either way, I'm in a good mood right now and I've come to particularly like this audience, so you and your friend get to leave with your lives. Lucky you!"

The hero's eyes suddenly widened in panic, anger and terror overtaking him as he fought to stand. "How did you- _What did you do to her!?_"

"Me? I didn't do anything, so how should I know?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "She should still be alive, though I can't say as much about her career."

"_You-_"

"Shoo." He finally said as he stood, flicking at the air in a motion as if to signal him to leave. Two other guards ran up then, carelessly lifting the injured hero and ignoring his cries of pain. "Make sure they don't die!" Schrodinger called after them. "Give them back to their hero friends. I'm sure they'll be pleased!"

Schrodinger shook his head as he turned away, his face almost fond as he stared off at nothing. "Foolish, _foolish_ children." he chuckled. "Think they're invincible..."

Once again whistling happily, Schrodinger shoved his hands into his pockets as he passed the now deathly silent crowd, his eyes contently shut as he skipped along.

And Hamuro Naofumi had never felt so hopeless in his life.

* * *

Step one was getting back into the vents.

The ceiling was high, several feet above Jirou's head, so even with Bakugou's help, they wouldn't be able to reach the opening. Dragging over one of the clothing racks and climbing onto it was certainly an option, but she was pretty positive that the off chance that she were to slip and fall wasn't worth it. She didn't feel like lowering their chances of success because of something so stupid.

From where Jirou sat, lounging against the wall under the covered windows, she could hear a faint rummaging in the backroom, where Bakugou was likely searching for either a ladder or a step stool, or something along those lines. Even with the door ajar, it was the quietest that he'd ever been with anything, and a small part of Jirou felt a pang of fear rush through her system.

It was fascinating, how the silence surrounding her was what really made the whole situation sink in.

She tried not to shake as Hamuro slumped against her, her hamster curled up in her lap. There was a tired, glazed look in her eyes, her glasses slipping off of her face and short, wild curls cascading over Jirou's shoulder. Even in her exhausted state, there was a clear frown.

Now that they were safe, it didn't surprise her that the girl was finally crashing from both the physical and emotional stress.

"Did you ever tell me your age?" Jirou suddenly asked nonchalantly. She honestly didn't remember whether or not she'd told her, but if nothing else, maybe some casual conversation would help brighten her up.

Hamuro hummed, blinking slowly. "Thirteen."

They fell back into silence, Jirou grasping for words. "I honestly wouldn't have guessed. You're really brave, you know."

She really wasn't that much older than her, but after everything that Jirou's already experienced in her life, she almost felt as if she'd lived for a million years in comparison.

"Well..." Hamuro mumbled, her head lulling to the side. "I wanted to be a hero once, remember? And heroes are brave."

"What about now?"

Hamuro smiled sadly. "I couldn't. I don't have a strong quirk for fighting."

Jirou was quiet for a moment. The girl's face reddened at the mention of her quirk, her twitchy fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her skirt as she fidgeted. Her hamster seemed to wake up from its nap in response, stretching with a long, tired yawn.

"Ham has a quirk." Hamuro mumbled suddenly, lifting a slightly unsteady hand and rubbing her thumb against the side of the hamster's neck. The rodent leaned into her touch, responding with a happy clicking noise.

Jirou blinked. "Really? I've heard a lot about animals getting quirks sometimes, but I've only seen it once or twice." Principal Nezu immediately came to mind.

"Yeah. It's rare."

"Hmm..." Jirou mused aloud. "What's their quirk?"

"Uh, his." she clarified. "It's, um, it's called comprehension."

Straightening herself up, Hamuro leaned forward, Ham resting comfortably in her hands with a satisfied squeak. "It gives him the ability to comprehend human emotion and even basic speech. He's very empathetic and nice to talk to, because he's quiet. Right, Ham?"

Ham squeaked in response, clumsily trying to climb up her sweater before she picked him up, giving him leverage to pull himself up onto her head and rest in her messy nest of hair.

And Jirou stared, stupefied.

She stared at the hamster with wide, disbelieving eyes, the fat rodent staring back with little black orbs that revealed more understanding and a far more prominent soul than she could have ever imagined seeing in such a small creature. Ham held himself up on his hind legs with more clicking noises, his nose twitching and tiny little hands grasping each other as he stared up at the stunned purple-haired girl.

Jirou blinked. "So...you're telling me...that it- he's... He's using his _quirk_ right now."

She could see the gears turning in Hamuro's head as she slowly registered the implications, her hand shooting up to rest on Ham's back. The fat little hamster relaxed at her touch.

"Ham can still use his quirk..." Hamuro whispered in awe, pulling her beloved pet into her hands and staring at him with open wonder. Jirou, almost on reflex, pulled at her jacks, searching for the familiar feeling of control that she'd lost and desperately yearned for.

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

"So, whatever's blocking our quirks doesn't affect animals, maybe?" Hamuro questioned, her free hand resting thoughtfully against her face while the other held her precious pet like an ancient treasure.

"That's what it looks like." Jirou responded, practically vibrating with pent up energy.

The two girls were startled by the sound of something slamming against the carpeted floor with a heavy thunk, Hamuro gripping her jaw to keep from shouting in surprise. Jirou blinked, now looking up at a surprisingly hefty step ladder, reaching just high enough to give her easy access to the high vent that had been mocking her for the past however many minutes they'd been in there.

"Jackpot." Bakugou muttered to himself, testing the stability of the ladder. "It's tall enough _and_ fairly sturdy, so if we meet up back here again, we can get back down without the pipsqueak over here breaking her f*cking legs."

Hamuro pouted at that, her cheeks puffed out and brows comically furrowed, but she dropped the look a moment later, a smile taking its place. "Hey, guess what? We just discovered that animals can still use their quirks in here!"

As if to emphasize her point, she held Ham out in front of her as if he were baby Simba on Pride Rock, a sparkle in her eyes as Ham tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner. Bakugou just stared at her blankly, understandably thrown off by the sudden change in subject. Jirou could practically see the moments he went from confused, to understanding, to open surprise, and then cold calculation in real time.

He was quiet for a moment, before he turned to his classmate with furrowed brows. "Jirou, what's the Animal Whisper's name again?"

Jirou felt whiplash from the use of her name, but moved on. "You mean Kouda?"

It hit her like a lightning bolt, as if Kaminari had just reached over and zapped her, and Bakugou grinned manically. "You see what I'm getting at, Shorty?"

_If animals are unaffected, then there's a good chance that they could communicate with the pros freely through Kouda. _

"You're a f*cking genius." Jirou mumbled without really meaning to.

"Obviously." he shot back on reflex.

With that, he swiftly approached one of the covered windows, pausing to turn and signal them to be quiet. Hamuro, putting Ham on her shoulder, instinctively covered her mouth, just to be safe, while Jirou bit her lip, frozen in place. Oddly enough, despite her current deafness, she was suddenly acutely aware of any and all sounds from outside of their safe haven.

As he was peering through the makeshift currents, Jirou suddenly noticed for the first time that Bakugou's hands were violently shaking.

For a moment, her heart leaped into her throat, nearly choking her with panic. Her own heartbeat was nearly unbearable against her eardrums, leaving her fingertips numb and vision blurring at the edges. The idea of him showing even the most _minute_ hint of fear was an entirely foreign concept. Something that just refused to compute in her already frazzled brain.

The quiet was closing into her subconscious, and suddenly, her mind began to wander.

Because she was right. That was incorrect. He didn't show fear. He didn't show weakness. Not before, not ever, and most certainly not now.

How much effort was he putting into controlling himself right now?

He hadn't truly raised his voice or lost his cool once during this whole ordeal, a feat truly worth recognition. His movements were slow and deliberate, different from his usual calculated, but bold and _loud_ style of heroism.

The thing about Bakugou was that even when he wasn't speaking, when he entered a room, you _knew_. His very presence unapologetically screamed out to the world, made his presence known, called for and demanded attention.

But the room they were in now was empty. Even though he was there, it was _empty_.

True, pure, unchallenged silence.

How much effort was he putting into restraining himself right now?

Jirou glanced over at the young teenager next to her, her hands now hovering uselessly in front of her, and vaguely wondered how the presence of a young civilian was affecting the way he carried himself.

Character growth. Such a neat thing.

With a long breath, Bakugou pulled away from the window. "Coast looks clear. Here's what we're gonna do."

Moving past them, he reached out and gripped the step ladder tightly. "Earlobes, you're going up before anything. Once you're in the vents, wait until I move the ladder away from the opening. I'll signal you."

Jirou suddenly felt a heavy weight resting on her shoulders. Moving the ladder would hide any evidence of her being up there. It would effectively hide her tracks.

_F*ck, she was really doing this_.

"Once you've gotten the chance to move, the kid and I-"

"You're three or four years older than me at most-"

"_The kid and I_ will go by foot, through the open window. The security station is close enough that it's not as big of a risk, and if we all rely on the vents too much, they're gonna catch on to us."

Jirou nodded numbly, slowly stepping onto the first foothold of the ladder. She could feel her heart racing faster and louder and it was making it hard to swallow.

"Wait!" Hamuro whisper-yelled, jogging over to the store counter, pulling a pencil out from under her sweater, and scribbling something on a sticky note from next to the untouched cash register. She looked at her work proudly, holding it up in front of her to inspect it with a smile before tearing it off of the stack, running back, and promptly slapping it onto Jirou's forehead. "These are the most important things we need from the backroom, but if you see something that looks useful and you can carry it, then you can bring that, too!"

Jirou simply nodded, not entirely sure how to respond to the piece of paper now stuck to her face, and looked to Bakugou for any last instructions. He took one look at her and her new little accessory, courtesy of the now beaming Hamuro, and shamelessly let out a loud snerk.

Right. Thanks, jack*ss.

Shaking her head, Jirou finally managed to swallow and started her ascent, inwardly cringing at every creak and groan that her movements caused. It wasn't long before she was crawling back into the spacious vent, pulling herself up and gracefully rolling onto her back. Her breaths were glaringly loud, bouncing off the walls of the vent and vibrating against her prone form. Somewhere below, she heard movement, barely catching the top of the ladder as it was carefully hauled away.

Tentatively, she placed her hand over her heart, reveling in the familiar _ba-dump, ba-dump_ against her palm, like an overpowering bass at a live concert. The beat against her ribcage almost put her at ease as it rumbled through her body, even as it desperately pounded against her chest at speeds that left her extremities tingling.

She realized, belatedly, how much she would rather just curl up in here and wait for someone else to save the day.

With a sigh, she shakily reached up to her forehead, clumsily grasping the piece of paper stuck to her skin. With a quick, painless yank, she inspected her apparent supplies list, and was met with some of the sloppiest little doodles that she'd ever seen in her life. And she'd seen the inside of Kaminari's notebooks.

She paused... How was Kaminari doing right now?

She hadn't seen him much today, nor did she know exactly where he was. A cold feeling settled in her stomach at the thought, leaving her anxious. She hoped that he was doing okay.

She hoped that everyone else was doing okay.

Because if something happened to them...

Jirou shook her head violently and her eyes zeroed back in on the ugly doodles. Right now, she had to focus.

On one side of the note were three drawings of what looked like headphones, if Jirou was being generous. It was honestly more like three pairs of melted circles attached by a couple of curvy lines. The penmanship was hard to decipher, but Jirou was eventually able to get the word 'communication' out of Hamuro's chicken scratch. Another drawing just looked like two circles with squiggles in it and an unintentionally phallic-looking object next to it that sort of resembled a controller, labeled as 'eyes'.

The third drawing was of a rectangle with a square on top of it and a line and circle sticking out of the bottom. Inside the rectangle was another one, with two words written inside of it:

_Tsar Bomba_.

What in the ever loving f*ck was this?

The sound of someone snapping pulled at her awareness. With a slight jolt, Jirou peered back down through the vent entrance, her eyes meeting familiarly sharp red ones. Bakugou vaguely motioned at her, and Jirou could do nothing but nod, scuttling back into the vent and twisting herself around with what felt like lead sitting in her stomach.

The vent was dark, but she began her slow trek anyway, ignoring the shiver running down her spine. One part of her felt like she was inching towards one of the most unforgettable moments of her entire high school career.

Another felt as if she were marching to her own funeral drum.

She hesitated, but pressed on regardless.

* * *

**Next chapter will get into some action. I can PROMISE it this time. FOR ABSOLUTE SURE. This story is stretching out much, much further than I'd expected. XD But hey, I should come to expect that by now.**

**I'm also still really thinking about permanently only posting on ao3, so if I suddenly disappear never to return, I'll still be active over there!**


	5. Contingency: The Mission

**Hey yo my bro's showing coronavirus symptoms so now I'm in quarantine because I might've possibly been exposed to it WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SPRING BREAK**

* * *

"For f*ck's sake, Orange, whatever you do, do _**not**_ make a single _peep_ while we're out in the open unless you've either got a death wish or a d*mn good reason to. _Do you understand me?_"

The girl somehow simultaneously looked unshakably determined and about three seconds away from breaking into hysteric sobbing as he helped her step through the broken window. Bakugou accepted her nod of understanding, either way.

The halls were deathly quiet, as if mankind had left them deserted in a frantic rush from some unseen threat. He didn't bother to look over every store front and sign, but he couldn't ignore the way that windows and doors were broken in or the way the bars of security gates twisted and warped until they'd given way to some unstoppable force. It was like a scene out of a horror movie, where the poor sod of a protagonist unwittingly stumbled upon the aftermath of an eldritch nightmare beyond human comprehension.

The difference was that this _wasn't_ beyond human comprehension. This was some trigger happy schmuck with a silver tongue camping out in a mall with several dozen captives for sh*ts and giggles. Or whatever the f*ck his reasoning was.

Either way, he wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

Every footstep sounded too loud in his own ears, unapologetically reverberating against smooth walls and tiled floor until it morphed into an echoing cacophony of sound that mercilessly battered against his eardrums. For some reason, the girl's were even louder, sending pins and needles shooting up with spine with every careless squeak of sneakers as she trailed after him.

He didn't want to bring her. He really didn't. Yes, he could tell the kid was book smart, as well as knowledgeable about their environment, which was useful as f*ck, but she was also a _child_ and a _civilian_ with no experience in dealing with this kind of situation out here in the open and in the middle of the action because they _needed directions_.

Ugh, that sounded so stupid when he thought about it like that.

The problem was that it was probably more dangerous to leave her by herself, because from what he'd seen and heard, these weird guard people were nothing if not thorough. They were most likely still patrolling around, looking for escapees at that very moment.

Which was why her incessant pitter patter was just about to give him an aneurysm.

One particularly loud slap of a sole against tile had him whirling around with the hardest glare he could muster, the girl shrinking away with a look both apologetic and fearful. Yeah, he _hoped_ she got the picture without him having to scream at her.

"Okay, kid,"

"Hamuro-"

"Here's what's gonna happen." he barreled along, slowly edging along the mangled mess of store fronts. Broken glass crunched under his shoes. "When we reach the end of this walkway, there will be a staff only entrance to our right."

Biting her trembling lip, the kid nodded. "It leads to an empty hallway. There's lots of doorways and stuff, but..."

"There's nowhere to go." _He refused to say __**nowhere to hide**_. "Nowhere except one of those doors."

"Uh, most of them go to storage and loading docks." Orange mentioned off-handedly, gingerly stepping through the mess of shattered glass with a wince. "They're big and have lots of stuff in them, so maybe we could stop there somewhere? They have lots of supplies. Maybe we could-"

Bakugou's sharp glare bore into her, the kid's shoulders shooting up to her ears. "Are you stupid or something?"

"I- No-"

"Docks lead directly _outside_. There's no way they wouldn't be guarded."

She fell blessedly silent at that, wordlessly following behind him. Bakugou focused on his breathing, regulating his wildly beating heart and the hot blood setting his veins on fire._ Temper. Control._

"When we get to the security room," he started back up again, his voice dropping to a low, even timbre. "You're first priority is to find a way to communicate with the heroes."

Aizawa is out there. Aizawa, one of the best and most successful underground heroes in the industry, is out there, and even if it's just the simple change in a pattern, if there's an attempt, he'll notice. The biggest problem is that these b*stard villains might be watching for that too.

Unless they're too cocky.

He really hopes that they're too cocky.

"If..." He can see the staff only entrance, like a lone beacon of uncertainty standing into the middle of a barren wasteland, shrouded in darkness and smothered with a stagnant, oppressive air that left him on the verge of shuddering. "If we can't communicate with the heroes, use the security system and get as much information on our surroundings as possible. Find locations, search for suspicious activity, anything that could possibly give us an advantage. Can you handle that, Orange?"

"Hamu-"

"_Can you handle that?_"

He hoped that she was smart enough to pick up on the way he was breathing through his nose, loud and heavy like a bull preparing to charge a careless bullfighter. His veins were beginning to pop in his forehead and the force of will it took to not scream was starting to turn his face red. If he had his quirk, sparks would be going off by now, loud and proud and bringing their enemies right to them.

Of course, in that case, he'd just be able to blow them up.

But things can never be that simple these days, can they?

_F*ck me. _

The girl stared at him for a long time, eyes wide and hands shaking like the knees of a newborn fawn, but she eventually found it in her to nod, swallowing whatever words might have been at the tip of her tongue in fear for her own life.

So the kid did have a sense of self-preservation. That was good, at least.

It actually put her a step above Deku. What the h*ll.

Okay, okay. 1...2... No wait, do you count backwards? ...Or is that right? _F*ck,_ he really needed Kiri to reteach him those breathing exercises or he was gonna snap someone's neck.

He still sucked in a huge mouthful of air, breathing deeply and exhaling loudly in hopes of somehow reigning in his swirling emotions. Eying their surroundings, it seemed that they'd reached a clearing of sorts, almost like a plaza, but smaller. The staff only door was practically screaming at them, just up ahead and sitting right where anyone could see it if they just so happened to glance that way.

He didn't like how out in the open it was, but it would have to do.

"Um..." the kid sounded uncertain, voice slightly wavering. "Uh... What do we do if, uh, there's guards on the other side?"

To her credit, that was a good question. On one hand, it was likely that the villains wouldn't bother, considering how thorough they've been in rounding up everyone that ended up trapped in this f*cking mall. The more men they have to guard the outside and ward off heroes, the better. However, that same thoroughness could also lead to guards being hidden and stationed around as many entryways that their numbers allow. Staff only areas would be the perfect places to set up camp, and for all he knew, they could very well be hiding right behind that door.

He hated the uncertainty that followed. If only he could just _blow it up_.

Normally, it would be fine. He can fight hand to hand combat no problem. Probably better than a lot of these loser villains. It was their sheer numbers that created a problem.

And firearms were also a thing.

Bakugou was quiet for a moment longer than intended, the girl behind him tensing up more as the silence stretched on. In her defense, she was allowed to be on guard. All the more power to her, actually. At least she had a sense to defend herself rather than just sit there and be complete deadweight for him to worry about. She wasn't a f*cking lemming leaping off the nearest cliff.

So yeah, good for her.

He left out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Right... Okay, he's what we're gonna do."

He glared at the girl intently, almost impressed at how she didn't rear back from him this time. "You're smaller, so you could theoretically hide, say..., behind that plant right there." He pointed at the small potted tree off to the side of the door. His eyes flickered around the room, noting the benches and other plant life around the mini plaza area. "Depending on the angle, under or on the benches could also work, or around a pillar."

His gaze fell back on her, her glasses gleaming the light and brows furrowed with a small flame of determination almost smothered by the sheer pressure of _everything_. "You hide, and I'll open the door. If there's no one there, I'll motion for you to follow. If there is, I'll fight 'em off."

No hesitation. If there was someone there, they'd notice the crack of light. They'd hear the creaking of metal. And they'd come after him.

And he would take them all down.

Because he always wins.

There's just no other option. No other outcome.

Because he's going to be a _hero_.

Orange didn't seem quite as confident, looking up at him with a nervous tick and a quivering lip. Her sweater pocket twitched, Bakugou only now remembering that the kid had an animal companion as her weird emotion hamster peeked out from its hiding spot and rubbed his face against her hip. She wrung her hands as she looked away, almost ashamed. "You'll get hurt, though..."

Bakugou huffed, a smirk on his face. "Look, kid,"

"Hamu-"

"You don't know who you're talking to, you hear me? I got this."

He grinned at that, a wild, toothy show of pearly white teeth that shone brightly in the light. "I don't lose."

He barely waited to see her reaction, almost missing the way her mouth fell open and face became slack with awe as his signature scowl fell back on his face and his eyes quickly darted around the empty mall, void of any life or sound. His movements were still careful, trying to attract as little attention as possible. If someone attacked from behind just as anyone who might be behind that door noticed him, things just might get a lot more complicated.

Deciding that the coast was clear, Bakugou stepped forward, the Nerdette scuttling past him with the grace of a dog tripping over a carpet as she huddled up behind the first hiding spot that he'd pointed out, the plant standing closest to the door. It was almost ominous, finding himself standing in front of the things. All confident and big talk aside, he had no idea what the h*ll he was gonna do if there was someone there, other than give them the fight of their lives. Maybe run for it so they could give chase and find a less cramped location for a brawl.

More importantly, he didn't know what _she_ was going to do. Staying hidden would keep her safe for a while, but on her own, she'd get caught eventually. That, and he had this inkling of a feeling that she might not actually do that.

She may actually have self-preservation, but there was still this small _something_ about her that reminded him of f*cking Deku, and that had him on pins and needles, because being comparable to the king of cannon fodder in a situation like this was definitely not a glowing endorsement for your health.

He really hoped for her sake that it was just because she looked like a complete stereotypical nerd.

_Stop stalling and get on with it. _

He glowered at the door, completely mundane, and yet it felt as if it was towering over him. Cautiously, he pressed his ear against, hoping that perhaps, if there is someone there, he could at least hear them before sh*t went down.

Silence met him. Uncertainty laughed in his face.

_F*ck it. _

The metal bar groaned obnoxiously loudly as he pushed against it, the door slow to give to his weight and methodically swing open. Light poured into the otherwise ominously dark hallway that greeted him, illuminated by nothing but dim, flickering lights bolted to the ceiling. The hall was surprisingly spacious, he noted absentmindedly, empty and dull with nothing but the color gray to give him company.

He released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding. There wasn't a single soul in sight.

He could have deflated on the spot, but he refused to let his guard down. They were still out in the open and he had a civilian with him. They needed to move.

Glancing over to where the kid was curled up against the wall and behind foliage, Bakugou gestured for her to follow him. The breath she released was much more obvious, almost sounding like a sob as she skittered over to him and latched onto his shirt as he pushed further into the hallway.

The door fell shut behind them, plunging them into near darkness. The lights flickered rapidly, going out for a few seconds too long before they came back on, bathing the two teenagers in a soft, eery glow. If he thought that out in the main halls of the mall looked like a horror, then this topped it a hundred times over.

The hall was completely empty, devoid of any boxes, debris, or trash that one might find in a place that otherwise seemed so strangely unkempt. The walls almost looked like they were made of solid concrete, giving off the feeling of a secluded bunker, while a few pipes could be seen haphazardly running along the ceiling. It looked sturdy enough, but there was an odd, musky and dark feeling to it that left him feeling uncomfortable.

Maybe it was the circumstances, but this place was sending chills running up and down his spine.

Orange gripped the fabric of his shirt so tightly that he almost felt constricted. "If I remember correctly..." she started, her voice low and unsteady. "Then the security station should be two doors down, after an entrance to the main loading dock on this side of the mall. After it is a supply closet and another loading dock door."

He stepped forward carefully, to the point that he couldn't even hear his own footsteps. Nerdette's sounded too loud to him, like they were reverberating along the concrete walls like a siren, an alarm calling all attention directly onto them, and it was _stressing him out_.

The hall felt as if it was stretching out ahead of them as they moved forward, darkness encompassing them. Orange clung to his shirt with an iron grip, the only sound coming from her being her sneakers against the cold hard floor. She didn't even whimper, instead practically pressing against him in a way that had him vibrating with energy because _who the f*ck gave you the right to touch me, brat!?_ But he kept his mouth shut. This was literally the last place to lose his cool. Just because there was no one by the door didn't mean that other entrances won't have guards.

The unknown really was an unnerving thing.

In the flickering spots of light that they were offered, Bakugou could vaguely make out a corner, another path into a threat that he hadn't even seen yet, and it had him itching for action. He honestly didn't know what it was that had him so tensed up, like a spring being pressed down until it the pressure was released and it lashed out. Maybe apprehension, or perhaps excitement? Anticipation, maybe? He honestly didn't know.

The small body curled up behind him made it even harder to really tell.

His hand fell against the wall as he approached the corner, a brighter flood of light spilling through the darkness enveloping the flickering hall behind them. Slowly, painstakingly, he peered over past the corner, finding nothing but more hallway and a single door, left open for whatever reason. More darkness flowed into the hallway the farther it went, stretching out into the unknown and leaving him grasping at straws.

It would be so much easier to figure things out if he knew all of the facts. If he knew enemy positions, more specifics about the locations, anything that could give him an advantage. Anything so that he could come up with a better plan.

He cursed under his breath. He wouldn't back down now, heroes never do that, but that didn't make the situation any less aggravating.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped that Earlobes was having better luck.

He looked over his shoulder, down at the mop of bright orange hair behind him. "Be quiet." he whispered. "If that's the loading dock, there _will_ be people in there."

The mass of curls bounced up and down in a nod, so Bakugou began to move forward once again, annoyingly slowly as they passed the open door. From here, he could barely make the room out, but it was gigantic, stretching out into nothingness as the walls and ceiling seemed to disappear into an unseen expanse. From what he could make out, boxes littered the floor and rows of shelves stood tall against the concrete floor.

The kid seemed to tighten her grip even more, almost as if she was trying to phase into him as they walked by. The silence that followed had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and suddenly, he was questioning every single decision he'd made up until this point. Maybe bringing the kid was a bad idea, after all. He was supposed to keep civilians out of danger, not drag them into it. He swallowed any sense of panic that could possibly even dare to poison his mind.

An effort that was completely thrown out the window when he heard footsteps coming towards them.

He grit his teeth, wide eyed as the sound slowly began to grow closer. He couldn't count the numbers, but there were definitely more than one person coming, and he highly doubted that they were friendly.

"Bakugou..." Orange whimpered.

"_F*ck._" The word slipped out before he could really think about it as he stepped back, forcing the girl behind him to backpedal to avoid getting knocked right over. His eyes darted over to the open door, shrouded in darkness and likely guarded as well. He bit his lip, eyes furrowed as he reached back to grab Orange's arm and made a beeline for it.

Even if it was guarded, it was dark, but not pitch back, so they could still stay out of sight easily enough, while the guards most likely wouldn't have any night vision goggles or anything like that. If they just stayed by the door and waited for the footsteps to pass, then they'd probably be scot-free. It wasn't an impossible situation.

_And even if it still goes to sh*t,_ he reasoned, _I can still fight._

And he'd bring down as many with him as he needed to.

He barely noticed his own feral grin.

The kid stumbled along behind him, barely keeping up as he slipped through the door with her in tow just as the reverberating pounding against the hard floor rounded the corner. From the sounds of it, there were less of them than he thought, but he also didn't know how many people were in the same room as him right now.

That thought made him tense up more than anything. It was almost like a placebo effect, suddenly feeling hundreds of eyes boring into him. He found himself with his back pressed against the wall away from the light seeping in from the hall, Orange still attempting to permanently attach herself to his body while avoiding stupidly tripping over one of the many boxes scattered across the floor. Even out of sight, he could hear the blood roaring in his ears, heart pounding wildly in what he finally decided was anticipation as sweat gathered along his brow.

He didn't know whether he loved or hated it.

"-can't do anything right!" a feminine voice shrieked, her voice laced with suppressed rage. "I don't care if Schrodinger was ready for them! You idiots still let heroes get in!"

"Ma'am, we dealt with them accordingly." someone reasoned. "They never got far enough to do any damage."

"They got their hands on him, you useless morons!" A familiar, loud smack rang out and Bakugou instinctively rubbed at his cheek. D*mn, he hadn't even thought about his mom. If news had gotten to her at all, she was either fretting in that weird, quiet way that she does or plotting his death. He never knew with her. Or she just didn't care. Honestly, her varying reactions towards his monthly near death experiences were like a box of chocolates.

The group finally passed by the doorway, a flash of gold storming by before the expected guards themselves followed close behind. He couldn't get a solid number on them from here, but he could make an educated guess that there were at least four of them, excluding the crazy lady.

For the umpteenth time that day, Bakugou found himself releasing a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. "F*ck, okay." he whispered. "Once they go around the corner, we should be able to slip back out and-"

There was loud yelp and a crash, and he suddenly tensed so hard that he was sure he heard something snap.

He whirled around, his hand already raised on reflex and temporary quirklessness momentarily forgotten. He thanked every deity he could think of when he wasn't met with a stranger's eyes or the barrel of a gun.

That thought did nothing to quell his sudden spike on anxiety though, looking down at the orange-haired idiot now lying in a heap of boxes with wide, panicked eyes. The hamster had fallen out of her pocket, looking just as dazed as it stared up at nothing and blinked in confusion.

The kid was obviously a klutz, but he hadn't originally realized _how much_ of one she was until this very moment. _Didn't she want to be a hero or some sh*t!?_

"Hey, did you hear that?"

"It came from that way!"

"I thought I heard a kid's voice!"

Voices were coming from all directions, flashlights appearing around the dark loading dock as the group in the hallway suddenly came rushing back. Bakugou's reaction was instantaneous, roughly yanking the girl back to her feet as the rodent clung onto her skirt and hauling her along with him as he took off deeper into the dock. The room felt more like a warehouse, weaving through highrise shelves filled with boxes and bins of products of all different kinds.

Turning a corner, Orange barely able to keep her feet on the ground as he pulled her along, he was momentarily blinded by a bright light hitting his face before he ducked away into the maze of shelves. "There's someone over there!"

Things can never be that simple these days, can they?

* * *

The fact that she was alone didn't quite hit her until about halfway to the 'drop off point'.

Sticky note stuffed in her pocket, Jirou moved through the vents at what felt like a snail's pace, sliding against the vent floor not unlike a snake. She hated how the sweat seeping into her clothes made her stick, forcing her to crawl in order to not screeched against the vent and pull the attention of anyone that might be patrolling directly under her. She couldn't risk them realizing that the vents were a viable form of travel in this situation.

She didn't want them to find her in here and risk the others being caught too, should they also choose to escape through the vents. Wherever they were, she didn't want them being found.

Either way, any of them getting caught at this point could spell disaster for the rest of them.

And that's when it came crashing down.

She's alone.

She's _alone_.

And if she's in danger, no one will save her.

Her breath hitched, hands shaking as she continued to pull herself through the desolate vent. Nerves were getting to her, her mind spinning with every worst case scenario that she could possibly conger up. She swallowed her panic, ignoring the strong urge to just lie down and take a nap and pushed forward. Her stomach churned painfully, but she pressed on.

She was a teenager. She was allowed to be scared.

But she would not panic.

Hamuro was counting on her.

Before she knew it, she reached the anticipated grate, peering through the vent cover to the tiled floor below. It was so painfully quiet, not a sound to be heard, and it was killing her inside. There was so much happening around her. So many villains crawling around, so many civilians in danger. She was surrounded on all sides.

_And she couldn't hear a thing. _

She instinctively reached for her ear jack, twirling the small growth around in her jittery fingers in a familiar nervous tick. They were left at about the length of a low-hanging pair of earrings, pulling against the rest of her lobes like deadweight. Under the effect of whatever was turning off her quirk, they were almost completely numb, paralyzed and cold against the skin of her hands.

She shook her head. Now wasn't the time for this.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that the screws were loose, having belatedly realized that she didn't have a screwdriver on her person at the moment. She would need to think things out more carefully in the future, she thought as she painstakingly began to spin the screws out of their respective holes.

What she hadn't realized was just how much weight she was putting on the apparently weak grate that was literally seconds from braking.

There was a moment that she forgot where she was, eyes wide and mouth open with a loud gasp as she suddenly found herself in midair.

_SH*T-!_

It wasn't the pain from slamming into the ground that got to her as much as it was the deafening _clang!_ that preceded her descent.

Mind blank and heart racing, she swiftly scrambled to her feet, head swiveling as she took in her new situation. Right off the bat, she didn't see anybody within her line of sight, but here, in a building this huge and where she can't hear beyond the average human's capabilities, that means absolutely nothing. With no time to lose, she's booking it down the hall, feet light as she carefully maneuvered around every threatening piece of trash or debris left in the crowds' manic attempts to escape the building. She knew where the shop was from here, immediately recognizing the little mall cafe that she, Yaomomo, and Kouda had visited just before this whole mess started.

She founded herself skidding to a halt at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, almost mechanically changing course and ducking behind a pillar just as two large figures came tearing around the corner. It was almost comical, sliding along the pillar as they ran past her admittedly poor hiding spot, but there were chills running through her body where there was still open air, where her body wasn't pressed up against the towering structure currently concealing her presence. She didn't know how many of them there were. Someone could easily just run up behind her now and she'd be none the wiser, right up until the moment it was too late.

She rubbed at her ears, eyes flickering in the direction that the guards had come from.

That...was also where Hamuro Electroniko was.

_Lucky her. _

Sucking in a long breath, she slipped between pillars, plant life, and other structures conveniently in her path as she traveled slowly through the barren corridors. It felt like it was every other second that was glancing behind her back, watching for those two guards.

It suddenly occurred to her that the open vent grate was super obvious. _Sh*t,_ she'd wanted to keep attention away from the vents and she'd basically painted a big red target sign around it.

She grit her teeth and kept moving forward. There was nothing she could do about it now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound, almost like a soft, rolling hum in the distance. It was like a wave of sound, more like ambiance than anything else, and for some reason, the mystery behind its source had Jirou's knees buckling. In the face of dangerous villains, she could keep her calm, but a strange sound that she couldn't identify had her _quaking_.

Well, she had to go that way anyway.

More footsteps startled her, and Jirou found herself scrambling under a bench as the guards came back around, their voices low as they walked past. She swallowed the frustration of not being able to understand what they were saying as she slowly trailed them, staying well hidden and out of their sight as they went. The hum grew louder, Jirou feeling her shoulders tense as they got closer to the source, and suddenly, she realized with startling clarity that the 'hum' was actually voices. _Many, many voices. _

_**She'd been led to the hostages. **_

Her heart leaped into her throat as the crowd came into view, several dozens of people sitting on the floor above in what looked like a crowded circle as guards casually strolled around them. The area itself was like a plaza, a balcony overlooking the main hub of the mall where a gorgeous fountain and a chandelier were placed among other things. The choices in plants looked tropical at first glance, but Jirou lacked the mental capacity to actually stop and analyze what foliage decorated the building when she was currently busy sneaking through a villain-infested hostage site while quirkless.

As it turns out, that will take a lot out of you.

Jirou bit her lip. The shop wasn't that far from here, just a hop, skip and a jump from where she currently was. Eying the two guards taking the still-functioning escalator, she crouched down and practically glared at the inconvenient clearing. It was wide open, like yet another giant target for her to deal with. All someone had to do was glance down and the dark colors of her clothing against the light tiles was all anyone needed to zero in on her.

And it wasn't like she didn't believe she could make it to the shop before they caught her. Unless they shot her legs out from under her, she had a good chance of outrunning the guards, especially with that heavy armor. If she ran for it, she could make it.

The problem was that this wasn't a video game. It wasn't like she could hit a checkpoint and reload from there. The enemies wouldn't lose interest as soon as she reached her goal. They'd come after her, and she would lead them right to the shop.

Right to that backroom.

A child's crying began to grate on her nerves, pushing at her slowly developing heroic instincts to _do something_. Whatever it took to ensure that child's safety. However, she wasn't reckless and she wasn't stupid. There was nothing she could do right now and as much as it hurt to acknowledge that, she did. She wasn't going to run in and get herself killed. She wasn't Midoriya... Or Bakugou, for that matter.

She really wished he was here, though. If nothing else, his ability to stay uncharacteristically levelheaded in an emergency was more reassuring than he may ever realize.

Jirou shook her head, slapping her sweaty hands against her cheeks. _Focus, Kyouka. Focus. _

It was unlikely that she'd have a chance in h*ll getting around without being caught. Most of the mall eventually gravitated to here, so there weren't any other ways she could go that didn't involve using the escalators, and going through the second floor was probably an even worse idea. With that in mind, the only way to that d*mn store was forward, spotted or not.

She didn't particularly like the idea of a chase rather than just going all stealth, but if they spotted her, then there wasn't much of a choice, and there was no other way to go. In the end, it would be worth it though, she told herself over the child's cries.

So...maybe she was a little reckless after all. Heroes did have a tendency to get themselves into sticky situations for the greater good. Either that, or the other dolts in her class were rubbing off on her and she was trying to make excuses.

And stall for time, apparently.

Jirou cracked her neck, moving her foot forward before she could really psyche herself out. Every step sounded too loud in her own ears, even as she quickly and carefully shuffled across the floor, edging along the foliage by the fountain for at least some kind of cover. The plaza felt bigger to her than it actually was, stretching forward almost comically as she practically glided across the floor.

A loud clatter nearly gave her a heart attack, knees tensing like springs, as if she was about to take off running, but no hurried footsteps forward, the sound of low cursing greeting her. She let out a heavy sigh of relief, body relaxing from its petrified state as she started forward again, albeit slower this time. She didn't know what happened, but there was a possibility that it would keep attention away from her, whatever it was.

Diving behind another pillar, her eyes scoured the shades area under the balcony, oddly welcoming in its offerings of temporary safety. It almost felt too good to be true, running through this suicide mission so smoothly.

"_HEY!_"

_**F*ck. **_

She didn't even look up, just bolted like a bat outta h*ll and ran for it, already hearing the rushing footsteps as guards came running down the escalators. She willed her feet to move faster, the phantom presence of a gun barrel staring into her back.

There were fewer footsteps than she expected, and she dared to look behind her, surprised to only find two guards, likely the ones who'd passed her earlier. They both had those weird chest belt things, the giant red bulb in the middle almost looking ridiculous against their sleek, dull red armor. In fact, why were they even wearing armor in the first place? Was it for show?

It suddenly dawned on her that neither of them had a gun.

She didn't know what deity of luck had decided to smile down upon her that day, but neither of them had firearms. A smile spread across her face at the realization, a smirk replacing it as she looked forward and reveled in the burning sensation in her legs.

Shouting continued to sound out from above her, a few more pairs of footsteps following along their chase as she ran, and suddenly, Jirou felt doubt creep up her spine. They were planning something, and she didn't like it. It almost felt like she was being corralled.

She didn't even glance at Hamuro Electroniko was she sprinted past it.

The footsteps behind her sounded closer, and Jirou barely had a chance to look behind her before a hand appeared in her peripheral and scared her sh*tless. She barely ducked out of the way, a breathless laugh escaping her throat as the man tumbled forward in his momentum. It was a small victory, even if she suddenly realized that she'd maybe given her running speed a little too much credit.

Her eyes flew forward, and suddenly, it felt as if time slowed down.

It was such a small detail, one that she might have missed, had she not been trained in heroics for the last several months in her life, but the fatal flaw was suddenly glaringly obvious.

Escalators. Another row of escalators, just ahead, leading to the same second floor. The second floor where feet were still pounding just above her. As soon as she ran past those escalators, either a new group of enemies were going to give chase or she was going to run right into them.

And she may not be so lucky on the whole firearms thing this time.

She grit her teeth so hard that she swore she heard them crack, not allowing herself to slow down for a single millisecond as she made a beeline for them. If she was right, and they were armed, booking it would do her no good when there was a bullet in her leg. With that in mind, she'd have to be a bit more slippery.

Okay, she could do this.

_Breathe. _

Feet hit the escalator just as she rounded it, the other guard behind her practically breathing down her neck, hand outstretched. In one of the weirdest sensations she'd ever experienced, she thought she felt some kind of freezing air pass over her shoulders.

And then she was skidding to a halt, watching in satisfaction as the guard barreled past her and toppled to the floor in his attempt to slow down. Wasting no time to enjoy the show, she leaped for the railing, latching onto the swift-moving escalator as high as she could jump just as two more guards came running down the other side.

She didn't miss the glint of weaponry. She'd guessed correctly.

She barely noticed her own wild grin, reminiscent of those of the explosion quirk user himself as she gracelessly hurled herself over the railing and onto the steps. Pain that she knew she'd be really feeling later coursed along her side as she scrambled back up, not bothering to check the top of the escalator before she was eyeballing the next set that would lead to the third floor. The second was already packed. She was sticking around to make any new friends.

A hair-raising clicking noise had her scrambling to her feet, climbing back onto the railing and fearlessly leaping to the other escalator just gunshots rang out, leaving her ears ringing. Her heart pounded wildly against her ears, the familiar beat soothing her frantic thoughts as more bullets rained against the hard, metal railing. She crawled up the rest of the way to the third floor on all fours, like a toddler climbing the stairs of their own home for the first time.

She tripped onto the high tile floor, skittering off to the side in fear of being shot from behind. This floor was well-decorated, even when compared to the plaza. Jirou immediately recognized the more famous, pricey designer labels that made up most of the shops, with fancy lights and two-story floors and wooden doors rather than open passages, all mostly untouched from the days tiring events. Well, less tiring and more like one more thing to put on her class's list of traumatizing events.

Scanning the area, she found herself focused on a large trash can, somehow seemingly inconspicuous where it stood again one of the store windows. Thinking fast and not letting the yelling send her into a panic, she raced for the nearest door, opening it and slamming it shut with a resounding _BANG_ before she leaped for the trashcan, almost leaping right over it in her haste and falling inside with a satisfying spray of paper and napkins.

And suddenly, she could _breathe_.

Even as heavy feet pounded against the tiles, voices loud enough to be yelling right into her ear, she felt like she was on top of the world.

_She_ outran those villains. _She_ outmaneuvered them. _She_ outsmarted them.

A part of her said she was singing her own praises a little too soon, but she still had to fight to not giggle, the sound of doors being ripped off of their hinges and stands and displays being thrown haphazardly across the different stores greeting her. She pressed herself against the walls of her makeshift hiding spot, both frozen in place and burning with energy all at once, even as it slowly began to grow quiet.

She wanted to pat her own back so badly when her trashcan was kicked over with an enraged yell and she barely even gasped.

If she hadn't stuck herself in place like she had, she would have fallen out. If any of them had even bothered to look inside, there she'd be. Every single second that ticked by could be the one where she's dragged away, where she's beaten to the edge of her life, where she's shot down.

It was terrifying.

It was _exhilarating. _

She couldn't wait to tell Kaminari and Yaomomo once she got out of here!

Her mood sobered up almost instantaneously, her now sore body relaxing into the oddly clean trash bin with a couple groans and cracks. She simultaneously felt like she could run a marathon and fall asleep, right there in that bin.

Man, she missed her friends. She didn't know where they were, but she hoped that they were okay. She's sure that Momo made it out, having been close to the exit when everything went to sh*t, the same going for Kouda. Kaminari, however, she was in the dark on, and somewhere in her still madly beating heart, that scared her.

Maybe, in a way, that's what spurred her on. Her deep-rooted love for the friends she's made during her heroic journey.

Wow, that sounded sappy.

With a content sigh, she finally allowed herself to move, forcing her sore muscles to operate as she slowly, delicately lifted her head and peered over the edge of the trashcan. From where she was, there was no one in sight, just a complete mess left in their wake. Not a single sound met her, just the murmur from the floor below wafting through the air like a strong, acrid scent. Gingerly, she crawled out of the fallen bin, not even willing herself to her feet as her whole body became wracked with shivering. So _now_ nerves were gonna set in.

She could see everything on the third floor from where she was, and if she was careful, then she could watch the second floor too. Silently, she crawled over to the edge of the balcony, protected by a glass fence that provided a decent enough vantage point, should she stay low. There was a buzz of activity around where the hostages were, which was setting her shot nerves on fire, but she remained as far out of sight as she could, not daring to prompt them to come searching for her. She felt like she'd had enough excitement for now.

In the midst of the everything, a new figure stepped out, flanked by two guards without belts and well-armed. His presence pulled at her attention instantly, like a mouth to a flame, and Jirou's eyes suddenly widened with realization.

He felt so far away, and yet, here he was. The mastermind. The final boss. The big bad himself.

Jirou exhaled, fog diluting the otherwise clear glass.

So, this guy was Schrodinger, huh?

* * *

The first bullet whizzed right past his ear. He was pretty sure a couple hairs got scraped off his scalp as well.

Orange gasped at the sound of gunfire, loud _pings_ going off around them as bullets ricocheted against the metal shelves. In all honestly, Bakugou had not been expecting them to immediately open fire on them, but his reflexes had yet to fail him, bodily hauling the kid into his arms as he practically dove into another pathway in the mess of shelves.

"What the h*ll are you doing!?" Crazy lady screamed. "Schrodinger doesn't want anybody dead yet! Don't kill them!"

_Yet, huh? _

"Then what do you want us to do!?"

"What do you mean, you f*cking imbecile!? _Capture them!_"

By this point, Nerdette had regained her footing, running alongside him at speeds that he hadn't expected from her petite little form. He may not have been running at his top speed between being literally left in the dark and not wanting to get separated from her, but the kid was still keeping pace with them, face already turning bright red and free arm pumping like crazy as she sprinted full speed to keep up with him. He could probably let go of her and she'd keep up.

Color him impressed.

They came to the edge of the room soon enough, Bakugou sliding to a stop and briskly turning the corner. By this point, his eyes had mostly adjusted to the dark, so their next course of action was to dig themselves deeper into the maze and try to confuse their enemies. He may not know the lay of the land, but he doubted that they did, either.

That train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the kid slamming full speed into the wall.

He would never admit out loud that he jumped at the sound, watching in mute astonishment as Orange slammed into the ground, dazed from the impact.

What in the _f*ck_ did she think she was doing!?

"Kid, the h*ll was that?!" he whisper-yelled, harshly tugging the kid back up to her feet. He could practically see the stars spinning around her head.

"Sorry..." she slurred. "That...usually works out better."

He didn't even bother asking, just grabbed her arm and kept on running. Flashlights tore through the darkness like katanas, like helicopter spotlights in search of a runaway criminal, and the shouting all blended together against the violent echoes. Bakugou found it curious that he could only see people on one side of the room, where they'd entered, while the other said was in complete blackness. He took advantage of that, Orange following close behind as he weaved through the mess of supplies and metal shelves.

They ended up climbing over a forklift at one point, Bakugou easily leaping over it while Orange just kind of skittered over the protruding lift with the elegance of a ballerina with a broken leg.

Even so, the guards were gaining on them, the advantage of a powerful light source guilding them through. With his luck, they'd find a light switch at any moment. Then they'd really be out in the open.

"Bakugou?"

The older teen glared down at her, her eyes wide with underlying fear and searing determination. It was a look that almost threw him off, powerful and strong-willed and heavily-clashing with the body that it belonged to.

He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to slug her. _Stop reminding me of Deku, you d*mn brat. _

"Bakugou?" she repeated. "I think I have a plan."

His glare bore into her verl soul, making her shudder. "You _think?_"

"I-" she swallowed, shaking her head before _that look_ returned. "No, I- I have a plan."

Her voice was breathless as they ran. Her rodent had barely managed to climb back into one of her pockets, seemingly dazed. "There's uh- another entrance. Yeah, over there somewhere."

Bakugou skidded to a halt, startling the nerdette as he threw his arm around her waist and yanked her with him into a small opening surrounded by boxes. Once she recollected herself, she breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing at her sore legs. The hamster also sank further into her sweater pocket.

"Kid," Bakugou growled. "Explain."

"Ha-" Orange bit her lip. "...O- Okay, so, I know where the other door is, or, I think I do. I do know that the other entrance is really, really close to the security station, but it's probably guarded, or at least it was, unless they also came running to see what all of the commotion is. But they might also think that it's not necessary-"

"_OI._"

She jumped, but shook her head and slapped her cheeks, and suddenly, she was _burning._ "I can get to the security station, but not only will it be guarded, these guys will come looking as well."

She breathed in deeply, as if she was physically forcing confidence into her body. He barely noticed the way her eyes went glassy, almost afraid. "So...t-to do this, I need you to distract them. Give them lots of trouble. Make them need to call in as much back up as p-possible."

She watched him warily, gauging him, sizing him up. He could feel the blood vessels begin to pop in his head with that look. Man, he was really starting to hate her face. "Is that it? Not that I couldn't handle that, but it feels like you're throwing me to the wolves here."

Her expression looked strained. "Do you trust me?"

"Not particularly, kid."

She pouted heavily at that, her cheeks puffed out and tears in her eyes. Bakugou returned her look of betrayal with a deadpan glare, earning a whine. "Mean..."

"Look," he finally sighed. "Yeah, you're not the first person I'd turn my back to and expect to not have some villain jumping me... _However..._"

The way her face brightened up made his blood boil. "However, ...I somehow doubt that either of us have any better ideas."

A long, drawn out breath, a beat of silence, and suddenly, a toothy, bloodthirsty grin spread across his face. "Get out of here, kid. I'll make sure to give these b*stards absolute _h*ll_."

* * *

By the time Tsukauchi had set up camp in the main police tent and started finally gaining some limited access to security footage, the situation started teetering from bad to all h*ll breaking loose.

It hadn't even been an hour since this whole mess started and Aizawa already felt as if his head was about to split open. He rubbed at his aching temples as he stormed by the ambulances, now loading up a young hero duo that had been stupid enough to try and infiltrate the mall on their own.

They were siblings, if he remembered correctly, a brother and sister duo who specialized in reconnaissance and stealth missions. Though he didn't remember what their quirks were off the top of his head, he did know that they were essential for their success in their particular field, so going in when they both knew they had no access to them was a particularly stupid move on their part.

Now, the brother was barely alive due to blood loss and the sister would never walk again. They were fresh on their full licenses and their careers are as good as gone.

Foolish, _foolish_ children.

He eyed a small gathering of his students warily, Iida ranting about something to Yaoyorozu and Aoyama, who was staring off into space again, while a few others milled around or stopped to add to the conversation, a couple kids from Vlad's class joining them.

With a long sigh, Aizawa kept walking, fists clenched. He would _not_ let his students make the same mistake.

Which meant that there was one specific problem child that he needed to confront immediately.

"Eraser!" Aizawa winced at the volume, Present Mic easily falling into step beside him. The underground hero could already hear the throngs of people yelling over the police barricade, even from this distance, phones and microphones and notebooks jotting down every little thing that they could milk for whatever f*cked up blog post they'd be seeing about 'hero society's next big failure'. And they hadn't even failed yet.

_Yet_. For some illogical reason, he found himself disliking that word.

Pulling his goggles over his eyes, he finally acknowledged his friend's disheveled form. "Any news?"

"Nothing new." Mic admitted solemnly. "Besides a few security cameras, there are no signals coming from inside or outside the premises."

Aizawa grimaced. "So we don't know the state of any of the hostages."

"From what we've been able to gather, no civilians have been seriously hurt that we know of, so that's good, at least."

"From what we know." Aizawa growled. "We don't have everyone accounted for."

Mic sighed at that, looking away. "Yeah... Yeah, you're right."

The two continued their trek in silence, Aizawa's eyes periodically falling back on the offending building. There was a prickly feeling running along his skin, like goosebumps in a way, and he didn't know how much of that had to do with the fact that two of his students were still in there.

A hand rested gently against his shoulder. "They'll be fine, Shouta." said Mic. "They're smart kids. They can take care of themselves."

Aizawa responded with the flattest look he could muster. "Mic, what have I said about heroes and optimism?"

Mic looked like he was about to say something, but Aizawa shrugged him off and turned away before he could say anything else. He would be lying if he said he didn't trust his class. However, they were too eager and attracted trouble wherever they went. Just look at the situation they're in now if you want proof.

Now Jirou, Mic did have a point with. She was smart, agile, and stealthy. Aizawa could easily see her becoming an exemplary reconnaissance hero with her levelheadedness and quick thinking. That, however, did not mean that she couldn't be just as bad as the rest of the class when it came to biting off more than they could chew.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was the wild card. He was strategic and calm in a pinch, but he was also the biggest offender when it came to reckless decision-making, rivaled only by Midoriya. Out of all of his students, he was among the hardest to predict, and that was setting Aizawa on edge, because _nothing has happened yet. _

As was the little gathering that caught his eye.

Scruffy green hair instantly caught his attention, surrounded by about half of the class as the problem child rambled on about something. The collective presence of Kirishima, Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero was already raising every red flag that Aizawa had to list, and despite his calm demeanor, in this situation, he didn't trust Todoroki in the slightest.

He was walking towards them before he could even think about it, the image of two young heroes being loaded into ambulances with nothing but their own crushed dreams to keep them company floating somewhere in the back of his mind.

He fought to not replace their faces with those of his missing kids.

Uraraka noticed him first, pupils dilating as she reached out and rapidly tapped Midoriya's shoulder, effectively startling him out of his mumbling tangent. Todoroki was already watching him warily, a strange look in his eyes that Aizawa couldn't quite decipher at first glance. Scanning the group of children in front of him, he counted a few more that he hadn't initially noticed, Asui standing somewhere behind Todoroki while Hagakure attempted to phase herself out of existence behind Ojiro. A few feet away, Kouda looked particularly stricken, sweating profusely as he wrung his hands and looked away. Next to Kirishima, Rikidou had a firm grip on the redhead's shoulder, almost as if he was holding him back.

Aizawa glared at all of them, watching in satisfaction as they all shrunk away to some degree. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fought off the headache still threatening to overtake his senses. "Problem child, I would like to speak with you._ In private._"

The group exchanged worried glances as Midoriya watched him, a calculating look in his eyes before he reluctantly nodded. With a sigh, Aizawa motioned for him to follow, turning away and lumbering over to a more secluded area. The freckled teen was disconcertingly quiet as they walked, his gaze burning holes right into his back.

These kids were absolutely going to be the death of him. Problem children one and two were already regularly giving him enough gray hairs as it was. He didn't need them rallying up more of their classmates into their long-con murder plot against him.

"Um, Sensei?" Midoriya's voice was deceptively quiet. Spinning on his heel, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets, it somewhat irked Aizawa just how unapologetic the boy looked. "Did something hap-?"

"Stay out of this, Midoriya."

Even if he was used to it by now, the greenette still startled at the blunt statement. No point in beating around the bush. "Uh- S-Sensei?"

"I've had months to get to know you lot, and knowing you, I know for a fact that you have every intention to plan some form of infiltration. Logically, I had to intervene before you got too far."

Midoriya gaped at him, for once in his life left speechless as he fought for the right words. "I- B-B-But Sensei-!"

"No, Midoriya. I am aware that you all have been involved in many large-scale raids and missions at this point despite your age, but this is different. It isn't just other heroes on the line. This is a massive hostage situation and making any independent moves could be absolutely disastrous."

"I- We've dealt with hostage situations before."

"To this scale?"

He fell silence at that, staring down at the ground with tears welling up in his eyes. He took a shuddering breath. "...We have our licenses..."

"That doesn't make me any less your superior. Heroes still have to take orders."

Midoriya cringed, looking away with a mixture of frustration and hurt. Aizawa ran a hand through his hair, yet another long, heavy sigh escaping him as if he was holding the entire world on his shoulders. Some days, he might argue that he does. "I know this is difficult for you, and that All Might's somehow got it into your head that meddling in situations where you shouldn't is the heroic thing to do. However, as your teacher, I'm here to tell you that this isn't the time for that. I am telling you not to get involved, and there will be consequences, should you ignore my warning. So, take my orders to heart. _Stay out of this._"

The problem child seemed to deflate at that, staring down at his hands with a far off expression. He clenched them tightly, eyes trailing his heavily scarred arms with a glassy look.

Aizawa didn't like how unconvinced the hidden spark in his eyes seemed. _All Might, what have you created? _

"Eraserhead!" someone shouted, Aizawa whipping around as a police officer breathlessly ran up to him, wordlessly gesturing back to Tsukauchi's tent a ways off. "Detective Tsukauchi and Present Mic are asking for you! They want you to see something!"

Something cold gripped his heart, even as he held his hardened expression. He watched Midoriya carefully, noting the way he went absolutely rigid with whatever ideas were now bouncing around his skull. Aizawa gave him a dangerous glare before he followed after the officer. "Midoriya, go back to your classmates. That's all I wanted to say."

He didn't give the kid a chance to respond, quickly following after the young officer as he led him back to Tsukauchi and Mic. It didn't take them long to get there, the likely new recruit heaving from his run as Aizawa ducked into the tent. His attention was immediately pulled to the screen, blocks of video recordings scouring it from top to bottom. Most of it was just white noise as the officer in charge click through different cameras, but a few of them still seemed to be working.

Present Mic was at his side within a second. "This is all the security footage they've been able to scrape up from the mall." He explained. "Most of the cameras are down, but they didn't get all of them."

Next to the officer, Tsukauchi was leaning over the desk, glaring at a particular monitor intently. Upon noticing Aizawa, he pointed to the footage, the officer quickly enlarging it.

"Eraserhead," Tsukauchi greeted, motioning him forward. "I thought you might want to see this."

The camera was placed somewhere in the main plaza, Aizawa noticed briefly, eyes immediately falling on the large collection of people on the second floor. No one looked injured, nor did anyone look familiar. Around them, more of those guards were walking around, carefully watching the crowd of hostages. Absentmindedly, Aizawa noticed that only a few of them had those weird belts.

And those people with the belts...

"None of the guys with belts are armed." Mic spoke up, voicing his thoughts. It was a small detail, but Aizawa still shelved it for later.

There was suddenly a commotion, two of the belted guards suddenly running back down the moving escalators. Several people in the crowd startled, huddling together as a couple more guards ran off screen. Tsukauchi tapped the lower left side of the screen, the other officer quickly zooming in on that particular corner and enhancing it.

A dark blur suddenly bolted across the screen, emerging from somewhere on the ground floor and disappearing under the second-story balcony. Within a moment, the tape was paused and rewound, freezing just as the figure ran by. Tsukauchi turned to Aizawa just as the image was sharpened and made clear, while Mic watched him carefully, his expression blank and completely unreadable.

It took Aizawa a moment to register what he was looking at, but as soon as he did, his eyes were the size of saucers.

_**That's Jirou.**_

* * *

**And that concludes today's chapter of 'everything goes wrong all at once', which is basically your average weekend for these guys, am I right? Heh.**

**I apologize for any glaringly obvious typos. A lot of this was written at four in the morning. X)**

**Until next time!**


	6. Megalomania: The Deviant

**SUUUUUUUMMEEEEEEEER BREEEEEEAK! **

**Woo boy, it feels good to actually have time to write, considering that I haven't been able to even look at this thing for the entirety of April because my professors don't have a solid understanding of the word 'moderation', so I just started writing this chapter this week. RIP ME**

**Either way, I'm here now! I hope you enjoy this chapter, even if it might be a little shorter!**

* * *

He almost seemed pleasant.

His back was straight, shoulders squared and posture tall as he strode through the group of hostages, an almost giddy, childish glint in his expression as all eyes were drawn directly to him. It was like a moth to a flame, the waves of charisma rolling off of him in massive waves, enough to drown someone. Frankly, even if she couldn't see his eyes from this distance, Jirou was still having a hard time seeing the villainous mastermind behind what might be one of the biggest heists of the decade in this warm, welcoming gentleman.

Perhaps that was the scariest thing about him.

Schrodinger was absolutely brimming with confidence, slick, gelled-back black hair framing his sharp, pale face and a long black and dark green coat flowing behind him as he walked, footsteps brisk and self-assured. His smile was almost cheeky, his expression soft and practically glowing, brimming with barely-contained excitement. The crowd seemed to go deathly silent as he walked, a skip in his step as he reached the front and spun on his heel, twirling around and clicking his heels with a smile.

"Alright!" he said gleefully, his words punctuated with a loud clap. "Let's hope that we have no more interruptions before we get this show on the road."

Jirou bit her lip, eyes scanning the crowd of civilian hostages with her heart in her throat. Her previous ecstasy, alive and exhilarated in the face of success, was gone, replaced by a heavy feeling of helplessness, emphasized solemnly by the sheet of glass that sat in front of her. The useless flaps of skin hanging off of her ears felt unreasonably heavy, as if they'd rip her outer ears off any second, but she dug her nails against the tiled floor, blinked back her tears, and let her eyes wander across the crowd.

If nothing else, she could be with them in spirit. In some strange, irrational sense, looking away felt like abandoning them.

She wasn't sure how she zeroed in on him so quickly, but she nearly broke a nail when she saw him, a familiar shade of orange poking out of the crowd pulling her eyes to the comforting form of Hamuro Naofumi. From what Jirou could see, he didn't appear to be hurt, and he was deep enough within the crowd that it would be less likely that he'd be singled out by anyone, but it still set her nerves on fire, seeing him down there like that. At least she knew he was okay, if nothing else. Hamuro will be happy to know that.

But the fact still remained that he was in danger and she couldn't help him, and she _hated_ it.

"Now then," Schrodinger's voice rang through the open air as he seemed to gesture at the walls. "All eyes over here, please!"

A light buzzing noise resonated through the open space, Jirou shivering at the sudden unknown sound as her eyes quickly scanned the area around her. The movements were miniscule, almost flying under her radar completely, but she still caught it, the slight twitch of something against the opposite walls. From here, she could barely make out the silhouettes of what she realized were security cameras, all shifting towards the villain below. She didn't know how many there were, but from what she could see, there were quite a few of them.

Her eyes widened at the realization, heart leaping into her throat as she swiveled around, looking over the walls behind her with clenched teeth. She didn't know how she'd even forgotten that _cameras were a thing,_ but she could make out a lot of them, all now aimed towards Schrodinger as he motioned for one of his lackeys over to him. Right now, the cameras weren't looking at her, but that didn't mean that they hadn't been just a moment ago.

There was a very real possibility that _someone_ knew she was here.

_She needed to leave. _

She glanced back down at Schrodinger, taking what she recognized as a microphone from the guard's hand, and watched with confusion as he lightly tapped it and looked back up at the security cameras.

"Finally..." he breathed, voice reverberating through the empty halls of the nearly desolate mall. "The first act can finally begin! But first," He paused, hand hovering over his eyes as he scanned the crowd intently.

For a moment that had Jirou curling into herself, the look in his eyes twisted into something blatantly sinister. "I'll need a volunteer."

* * *

"Something's happening."

Aizawa tensed, a _"no sh*t"_ just on the tip of his tongue as he glared at the shifting footage. As if on cue, feeds began to go on and off at seemingly random, officers, detectives, and heroes alike scrambling for purchase on this new development over the ear-grating sound of static. Tsukauchi lurched forward, hovering directly over the other officer and watching the screens with wide, guarded eyes. Aizawa spared a glance at Present Mic, the voice hero watching him carefully.

"You two," Tsukauchi suddenly ordered, pointing at a small group of officers stationed at more computer screens. "Hack into the cameras that are down. The rest of you, monitor all live feeds."

"Sir, we've already tried." the first officer quickly spoke up. "There's some kind of interference blocking us out and we can't tell whether or not a quirk is involved."

On the main camera, like drops of water from a used tap, guards began to trickle back into the plaza, returning to their original stations. As if it was instinct, Aizawa scanned every screen for a familiar burst of dark purple, every second where his student was nowhere to be seen leaving him uncomfortably unsure.

"Eraser," Present Mic's voice filtered through his thoughts, his expression uncharacteristically unreadable. "She'll be okay. If we can't see her anymore, then she most likely got away."

Aizawa exhaled loudly, eyes still searching. "We can't confirm that, Mic. We have no way of knowing how much information these villains have access to, and thus, whether or not they know who my students are and if they'll take special interest in them. We can't confirm _anything_."

These were the types of villains that Aizawa hated dealing with the most. The ones that seemed both perfectly in their right mind, while simultaneously absolutely bonkers. The ones who always held their composure. The _charismatic_ ones.

It makes his skin crawl.

"What the h*ll?" the officer muttered to himself, typing spastically with a crease in his brow. Both Aizawa and Tsukauchi turned to him instantly. "Who got us into the speaker systems?"

Static ripped through the air, white noise against the stiff, stuffy air inside the police tent. A low hum could be heard, almost like a ghostly howl in a haunted forest, and Aizawa could feel goosebumps running up his arms. From a logical standpoint, something as mundane as microphone interference shouldn't being sending him into a fight or flight response, but he's so strung up about the whole situation, the hostages, his missing students, the sheer number of unknown variables involved that he doesn't know how long he can stay aloof before he _loses it_.

"Eraser." Present Mic's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, a reassuring hand pressing against his shoulder. "Keep it together, Eraser."

"I _know._" he snapped, biting the inside of his cheek and fighting the instinct to curl into himself and fall asleep to forget about this whole mess. "I know." he repeated calmly.

"_Hello?_"

It was as if the temperature dropped a solid fifteen degrees, Aizawa's breath hitching despite his efforts. Like a swarm of bees in a disturbed nest, officers surrounded the screens, Schrodinger's smiling face and casual wave greeting them. "_Helloooo? You can all hear me, right? You should be hooked into the speaker systems by now, so go on! Say something!_"

Aizawa and Present Mic eyed each other skeptically, Tsukauchi looking just as unsure. There was a tension hanging in the air that made Aizawa's shoulders feel heavy, an oppressive atmosphere that he just couldn't shake. Schrodinger watched the camera lens carefully, as if he could see right through it and straight at them. "_Look, I can't actually see you, so I don't really know if you can hear me or if I'm talking to a security camera like a lunatic. As enlightening as having a conversation with yourself can be, I'd much rather be speaking with you all._"

He turned back to the crowd with a sigh, a slight look of annoyance lurking in his eyes. "_Or you can ignore me. That's fine. Who needs you? Anyway, where was I...?_" His face suddenly lit up. "_Oh yes! A volunteer! Do I have a volunteer? Hands up!_"

Something dark twisted in Aizawa's chest at the proclamation, Tsukauchi's eyes going wide as Schrodinger posed expectantly, watching as if frozen as the crowd went unnaturally silent, just as stock still as the villain standing before them.

Schrodinger's smile never fell. "_Don't all sign up at once._"

Tsukauchi made the first move. "That won't be necessary." he announced, his voice reverberating through the video feed.

Schrodinger turned back to the screen, his expression screaming enthusiasm. "_Aha! So you _can_ hear me! Excellent! And what might your name be, good sir?_"

"That's not important." Tsukauchi quickly shot back. "If you would please-"

"_Say, if I may..._" Schrodinger suddenly cut him off, a sparkle in his eyes. "_I would like to make a request. Nothing drastic, I promise._"

Tsukauchi bit his lip, and Aizawa tried to swallow his nerves. The big problem was that Schrodinger still had complete control over the whole situation. Whatever quirk-jamming ability or technology he had at his disposal was a complete mystery, and no one at this point had been able to dig up anything about it. They'd never even left square one, and Aizawa was one hundred and ten percent sure that Schrodinger was aware of all of this, as was Tsukauchi.

"_And that would be?_" Tsukauchi responded carefully.

Schrodinger smiled pleasantly. "_Well... Ah, if I'm being honest, this might seem a little bit childish,_" he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "_But, well, would you mind allowing me to speak with Eraserhead?_"

What?

Aizawa didn't even bother hiding his shocked expression, wide eyes meeting Present Mic's as Tsukauchi eyed him with a raised eyebrow. The underground hero, for one, suddenly had pins and needles up his spine, a spike of uncertainty hitting him with an odd bout of vertigo. His gaze moved to Tsukauchi, a silent conversation taking place as Aizawa's eyes hardened.

Slowly, Tsukauchi exhaled. "That...shouldn't be a problem."

"_Wonderful!_" Schrodinger exclaimed, straightening himself and waiting expectantly.

And suddenly, Aizawa didn't know a single thing about what was happening anymore.

He didn't know what this guy wanted with him. He didn't know who this guy really was, or his motives, or what he knows.

_Does he have them? _

Aizawa fought not to shudder at the thought, banishing the images of his two students from his mind and putting on a dangerously professional face. All that mattered was saving as many people as possible. As a hero, that was his job.

No picking favorites.

He swallowed, emotions dulled, and moved forward as Tsukauchi stepped out of his way. The microphone was a small one, like one you'd see on a podium, and the screens bathed his itchy, irritated eyes in a sickly blue.

Already braced, his voice was deceptively steady, an uncaring, professional air to it. "This is Eraserhead."

* * *

Jirou could have cried when she heard her teacher's voice.

Slowly crawling backwards towards the wall, out of range of all the cameras on this side of the floor, Aizawa's low drawl had her nearly melting to the floor in a sudden, bizarre sense of relief. Realistically, she wasn't safe at all. He was just that. A voice.

But he was _there_.

He was there, doing everything in his power to save them, and somehow, that flooded her with so many emotions that she had absolutely no clue how to unpack them. She didn't even know where to _start_.

It was weird, but she reveled in that false sense of security.

Oddly enough, Schrodinger sounded just as elated. "Ah, yes! Hello, hello!" he cheered. "Eraserhead. Wow. Never thought I'd see the day. It's such an honor."

There was a clicking of heels. "If I may be completely honest, and this is gonna seem weird, I, for one, used to be a big fan of yours as a child."

Aizawa was quiet for a long moment, and for a second, Jirou wondered if he'd just straight up walked away. "_**...Is that so?**_"

"Indeed!" Schrodinger laughed. "It seems strange now, but as a child, I really did admire heroes. Didn't want to be one, but I liked the idea of them. I suppose you could consider me somewhat of a romantic."

He sighed, a long, reminiscent sound, as Jirou's foot found the wall behind her and she slowly began to pull herself up. "And you? You were always my favorite. Even when I lost faith in heroes, I still admired you. I still do now, though I don't remember why anymore. I never tried to be like you or anything, I just...I don't know. Odd, don't you think?"

Aizawa stayed quiet, and honestly, Jirou wasn't sure how to respond to that, either.

Before anyone even had a chance to come up with a response, a loud stomp pierced the air, several shouts of surprise following suit as Schrodinger seemed to snap out of his own little stupor. "But that's enough about me! Sorry for getting carried away! For this act, I _will_ need an audience member."

"_**That won't be nece-**_"

"Now, now, let's be honest with ourselves, Eraserhead." Schrodinger cut in, an almost gleeful look on his face as if his dreams were coming true. "I'm sure you're all aware that you aren't the ones in control here. _I _am."

He sounded stern, like he was disciplining a child. "And as such, I call the shots, and _I want a volunteer,_ though at this rate, it'll be more like being voluntold... Eh. In the end, I ultimately just wanted to hear you all to make sure that we were live. Nothing more, nothing less. It's an honor to meet you, though."

With a facade of kindness, Schrodinger slowly began to circle around one side of the crowd, predatory eyes scanning over the group of hostages now tightly huddling up against one another. There was an air of fear and loss of control that had Jirou's heart pounding as she pressed herself against the wall, the organ beating wildly at her ribcage like a taiko drum. She couldn't even bring herself to look at anybody's faces.

She's a hero.

She's a hero and she's _running away. _

_But what could she do? _

She briefly wondered if this was what quirkless people felt everyday. She couldn't _imagine-._

"You, sir! Plaid tie and glasses!" Schrodinger suddenly announced, a low gasp falling over the crowd. A quiet murmur floated through the air a moment later, the sound of footsteps quickly drowning it out. Craning her neck, Jirou watched as Schrodinger came back into her line of sight, another man nervously walking behind him. Aizawa had gone unnervingly silent.

_What was there to say? _

From what Jirou could see, the man was trying to remain calm, but his hands were shaking heavily, sweat gleaming against his forehead. He swallowed thickly, looking over the crowds and the many guards lining the sides of the plaza. Wordlessly, Schrodinger pulled a wallet out of the man's pocket and opened it in one fluid motion, eyes scanning over something inside. His other arm was wrapped around the man's shoulders as he leaned against him, as if they were good friends meeting up for lunch, microphone lazily held over his shoulder near his face. "What's your name, good sir?"

He didn't answer right away, wringing his hands as he stared off into the crowd, his gaze meeting someone else's outside of Jirou's field of view. Another swallow, and Schrodinger seemed to grow somewhat impatient, pursing his lips and tapping his foot. "Well, according to your I.D., you are a mister...Shibuya Yukio." He turned to face him. "This is your I.D., yeah? You never know these days. I'm pretty sure that's you in the picture."

He let go of him, giving 'Mr. Shibuya' the opportunity to make some distance between them as Schrodinger looked out into the crowd. "I see you have a family picture as well, Mr. Shibuya. A wife and daughter? How cute. Are they here with you?"

Mr. Shibuya was fighting to not pass out, looking away from the crowd and out over the balcony. "N-no... Today was my...my day off, and I-"

"Isn't that them over there, though?" Schrodinger interrupted, pointing out in the crowd and waving. "Hello, there!"

"I- S-sir, please-"

"Oh, calm down. It's fine. And please, call me Schrodinger." He smiled, bumping his hand somewhat reassuringly on Mr. Shibuya's shoulder, and looked back at the wallet. "And let's see here... I see that your quirk is called...'snow maker'? Tell me about it."

Mr. Shibuya went quiet again, but he fought to calm his nerves, breathing in deeply and ignoring the armed guards surrounding them. "My quirk..." he started slowly. "It, um, allows me to create little snowstorms around my body. Not much to it, though I guess we have a lot of snowball fights at home."

Schrodinger smiled wider, eyelids crinkling in delight. "That's adorable! It would be especially cute if your daughter inherited your quirk. Then you can both make your own snowballs!"

Mr. Shibuya blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Schrodinger chuckled. "How wonderful. Anyway!" He turned back to the security camera. "I hate to spoil the fun, but hostages are hostages, so if you all could give me your response to my demands, that would be great."

Schrodinger watched the camera quietly, the entire crowd falling silent as they waited for a response. Jirou could feel her anxiety spiking, nerves eating at her as she slowly edged along the wall. Eying the escalators, she bit her lip, wincing at the pain that followed. If the escalators were being guarded, than she'd have to go further down the hall and find the next set. Actually, that might be the best option, considering that the guards surrounding the civilians might still be watching. It might be a long trek, but it was better than backtracking and crossing under the balcony again.

The stretching silence pulled at her awareness, her brows furrowing in confusion. From below, Schrodinger had crossed his arms, his head tilted to the side. "Um, hello? ...Are you still there?"

* * *

It had been a long time since Aizawa had been this much at a loss.

With a raised brow, he turned to Tsukauchi, several questions on the tip of his tongue, but every single one of them died when he saw the look on the detective's face.

"Demands?" Tsukauchi questioned quietly, carefully masking any panic that he might be feeling as he turned to the other officers. "What demands? There were no demands."

"We're already looking, sir." was the response he was given. Present Mic was there a moment later, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Aizawa's eyes continued to scan the crowds, searching for any familiar faces among the hostages.

"_Hellooo?_" Schrodinger's voice crackled through the speaker. "_You all didn't leave, did you?_"

Aizawa saw it first, the light glint of metal as the villain nursed a pistol hidden at his side. "_It would be a shame if you did. I really don't want to do anything drastic._"

"Sir," an officer spoke up. "We can't find any records of the villains having any demands. No phone calls, no ransom notes, no nothing."

And just like that, they were forced into a corner.

On one hand, it could be a ruse, like a decoy or a trap, but for the life of him, Aizawa couldn't think of any logical reason for this Schrodinger guy to consider that his best option. He wouldn't put it past him, but he couldn't answer why. On the other, the message could have been lost somehow, which would look extremely bad for the heroes and police alike.

It didn't matter, either way.

"_You're not ignoring me, are you?_" Schrodinger asked carefully. "_That's...rather irresponsible._"

He could twist this situation however he wanted.

With a flick of Schrodinger's wrist, two guards stepped forward, grabbing the man's arms as the villain finally pulled out his weapon, inspecting it curiously. The way the civilian's face twisted into horror had Aizawa's heart sinking, but he pushed the feeling back as far as he could as Tsukauchi stepped forward. "Schrodinger, please repeat your demands for our audio records."

It was a clever attempt to save face, to request audio records, but Aizawa could tell by the way the villain's face contorted with skepticism that it didn't matter. "_You have it in writing, don't you? That shouldn't matter. At least for now._"

"Schrodinger-."

"_You're in no position to demand anything of me,_" Schrodinger said, his voice the most severe that it had ever been. Gone was the kind, caring and understanding facade, the cold, calculating villain showing itself from underneath, even if for just a moment. "_Especially when you would be so irresponsible as to ignore my demands and put these lovely people in danger. Or maybe you lost them? How _**embarrassing**."

Snapping off the safety, Schrodinger casually pointed the gun at the civilian, the man's breath hitching as he stared down the barrel. From somewhere in the background, a child's scream tore through the air. Schrodinger almost looked bored. Slightly annoyed, even. "_Why don't you rattle off my demands yourself? For your 'audio records'?_"

Tsukauchi cringed, grinding his teeth as he searched for words. It was a perfectly-laid trap, where no matter what they said, Schrodinger could twist the story however he wanted. Whether there were ever any demands or not, he could play on the apparent carelessness of the authorities however he wanted, and in the chance that there _was_ a message of some kind, there was no way to defend themselves from the media and society's interpretation.

Seconds ticked by.

It couldn't have even been three before Schrodinger let out a long, tired sigh. "_...How disappointing._"

_**BANG!**_

* * *

Jirou was frozen.

Mr. Shibuya's body limply fell to the ground, blood draining from the bullet hole between his eyes. Above the cries of shock and terror of the crowd were two screams of utter agony, as if they were the ones ruthlessly shot down. Schrodinger simply watched the chaos he'd created with emotionless eyes, dusting off his shoulder and reloading his pistol as if nothing had happened. The guards raised their weapons as Schrodinger motioned for the crowd to quiet down, the noise dimming down to intermittent sobbing, shocked silence, and the shrieking of what could only be a grieving family.

And Jirou didn't know what to think. She didn't know what to _say. _

How was she supposed to respond? She just watched a civilian die in cold blood.

_She watched someone die. _

_ Someone's dead. _

_**Useless. Absolutely useless failure of a hero-. **_

"Well," Schrodinger spoke off-handedly, as if he didn't literally just murder someone. "That escalated quickly."

Over the sounds of whimpering and hyperventilating, over the sounds of weeping and sorrow, over the sound of her own wailing heartbeat, the only thought that Jirou could hear rise above the noise was that _she hated this man. _

He couldn't be trusted.

He couldn't be underestimated.

He couldn't be allowed to walk the streets.

And it wasn't even that this was the worst thing a villain had ever done. She'd seen greater carnage. She'd heard of worse crimes. She'd known of more powerful forces of evil.

But the _look_ in his eyes.

The sheer lack of remorse. The soft smile returning to his face like a veil covering the monster underneath.

This was...

_This was..._

Schrodinger sighed again. "That killed the mood, didn't it? Shame." He rubbed a hand through his sleek hair, fingers digging against his scalp. "Well...the show must go on, I suppose."

Something seized in Jirou's chest, the crowd going quiet as Schrodinger looked them over once again, slowly circling around the opposite side. There was a new air of horror, the atmosphere thick enough to suffocate in. With careful steps, Schrodinger looked over his 'audience', a new gleam in his eyes that left them all with nothing but terror.

He didn't bother asking for a 'volunteer' or whatever bullsh*t he was spouting before. After a moment, he pointed at a random spot in the crowd, whispering to one of his guards before they moved forward.

"N- No..." a woman's voice trembled, clutching what Jirou realized were two infants to her chest as she scooted away. She cried out as she was forcefully pulled to her feet, yanked forward as she begged for mercy. "No! No, please, I- My fiance's waiting for me at home and-"

Jirou needed to move. She was _wasting time. _

There was nothing she could do.

_She needed to move. _

The woman stumbled forward, holding her two children tightly as she looked up at Schrodinger, a look of inconsolable fear on her face. She tried to step back, but the guard behind her held her in place. It made Jirou's skin crawl, how Schrodinger's expression easily morphed to that of kindness and concern. "Now, now, calm down. No need to cry." he said soothingly, running a gentle hand over the side of her face. "Don't cry."

She sobbed, her knees buckling as one of her babies began to cry. Wordlessly, Schrodinger reached for her purse, searching for her I.D. "Can you tell me your name?"

Her lips quivered. "N- N-n-nao- Na-"

"_Your name,_ miss."

"_N- Naoe Sachiko!_" she cried, curling into herself as her children cried. She tried to comfort them, whispering softly as she cradled them to her chest. Schrodinger finally found her I.D., looking it over and nodding to himself.

And then he paused.

It was such a minute change that Jirou almost completely missed it.

Something changed in his expression, something more recognizably human in his eyes as he seemed to fixate on something. He was quiet as she watched him, unsure as he shrugged tiredly and stuffed her I.D. back into her purse. "Your children. What are their names?"

She bit her lips, pulling her children tighter against her chest as she stepped back protectively, expression hardening despite the tears streaming down her face. Schrodinger watched her patiently, calmly waiting for a response that he likely wouldn't receive.

He shook his head, shoulders drooping. "I see. That's alright."

After a moment of pondering, he looked back at the camera. "You know, despite what you may believe, I have a heart." He looked back at the woman, a look almost resembling sadness in his eyes. "I'll let it go this one time... I'll even release this woman for you."

"Huh?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. Jirou herself couldn't help but blink in confusion as Schrodinger motioned to one of his guards.

"Escort her to the front gates, unharmed." he commanded. "Don't lay a single finger on her or her children. She wants to be with her fiance."

He smiled and nodded as the guard pulled her away, her eyes still wide and teary as he turned away. "Someone else cut off the speaker systems. I'm done with this group. Those jokers out there made me kill the mood in here."

And with that, he abruptly left, expression neutral as he stepped away from the crowd and disappeared out of sight, guards returning to their watchful positions. Even as Jirou tried to process everything that she'd witnessed, something in the back of her mind was screaming at her to move, to get out of sight before the cameras returned to their normal angles, before someone came looking for her.

Slowly, shakily, she began to move again, forcing air into her lungs as she pulled herself along. For whatever reason, she could feel her eyes growing wet, but not a single teardrop fell.

There was no time to mourn.

There was no time to process.

There was no time to fully accept everything that had just happened.

All she could do was hope beyond any hope she had that a familiar face wouldn't be next.

* * *

**Next chapter: Back to your regularly scheduled action.**


	7. Escapade: The Stand Pt1

**Ended up cutting this chapter in two. On the bright side, that means that the next chapter is already a third of the way done. Yay! :)**

**Enjoy the chaos!**

* * *

It felt like she'd come full circle.

Ignoring the ache in her legs, Jirou couldn't help but smile to herself. The halls had once again become disconcertingly quiet, especially considering how relatively close she still was to the hostage sight. It actually amazed her that she had yet to be spotted again. Perhaps luck was on their side for once?

Her footsteps had been fast but light as she'd practically scurried away from where she'd been eavesdropping, heart pounding and limbs numb and shaking as she tried to pull herself from the brink of a mental breakdown. There had just been something so...raw, watching someone die right in front of her like that.

She was sure she'd see that man's face in her nightmares for a long time.

As much as she wanted to curl up and freak out about it, there was no time, the low buzz of moving cameras forcing her back into her previous state of heroic detachment. Right now, her main priority had to be her original mission. Nothing more, nothing less.

That didn't start the silent tears as she fled.

It took an excruciatingly long time before she found the next escalator, but she ultimately supposed that it was for the best. The farther she was from searching eyes, the better. Peering down at the second floor, the area directly around the bottom of the escalator and the top of the next one leading to the ground floor was vacant, but that didn't mean that someone wasn't hovering around several feet away. H*ll, they were likely still looking for her, spreading out to cover more ground and watching for suspicious movement like hawks. It was risky, and she couldn't really afford being spotted again, and she still needed to get down.

Her objective was on the ground floor, after all.

Carefully stepping onto the escalator in a crouched position, Jirou had stared off at the expanse that made up the second floor expectantly, almost as if she was _daring_ someone to be there waiting. The eerie emptiness that met her sent chills down her spine, biting her lip as she tried to look past all the foliage growing within the center decor of the halls. If she looked far enough, she could make out the color of people's shirts.

Too close for comfort.

Wanting to get out of that group's general line of sight as quickly as possible, Jirou hopped over the escalator railing, landing smoothly on the one below. The ground floor split into a fork in the road here, so if there had been anyone there, they wouldn't see her from here. Carefully peering over the edge, she couldn't see anyone coming up the other way, either.

Wasn't that nice.

From there, it was all backtracking the way she came, staying close to the wall in case she needed to dive behind a pillar or into a store. For whatever reason, the ground floor seemed so much bigger than the second and third floors, the third feeling impossibly small in comparison. Her footsteps felt too loud, and every little creak and groan had her freezing up for a moment, but she pressed on regardless, even as her legs protested and her hands shook.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could still hear the agonized screams of what was now a widow and her daughter.

Getting here felt like a dream, like she'd been in a trance and suddenly woke up here, but the next thing she knew, she was staring up at a familiar storefront.

HAMURO ELECTRONIKO screamed back at her, loud and bold and unashamed as she stumbled over. The slick purples and blacks of the store were almost comforting as she carefully stepped in, taking in the destroyed state of the store after the initial attack. Nothing behind the counter looked touched, which was a good sign, but the rest of the store was an absolute mess. A travesty, really. This had been such a nice little shop when she'd first visited.

At least she knew Mr. Naofumi was okay for the most part. At least, when she last saw him.

And there'd been no commotion since then, so she could only assume the best for the time being.

She cringed at the sound of glass cracking under her shoes, more so out of guilt than fear, as she carefully walked through the wreckage that was once a quaint little antique shop. The inconspicuous black door at the back of the store seemed almost ominous, silently looming over her like the entrance to an ancient temple or a cursed cave system. There were no markers on the door, save for the plain white 'employees only' in English text written over it. Even the door handle was a dull dark gray color that practically blended into the background.

By all intents and purposes, this backroom didn't seem even slightly special. Perfect for avoiding prying eyes.

With a thick gulp, Jirou's fingers gingerly wrapped around the handle.

The creaking of the door as she pushed it open had her tensing up, a sudden ache in her shoulders. Other than the light pouring through the doorway, the room was pitch black, no light sources to be seen anywhere. Jirou bit her lip, slowly slipping into the room and hoping that she wasn't about to trip over something and bust her head open. With numb, uncertain fingers, Jirou searched along the walls, letting the large door silently fall shut just as her hand brushed against a light switch.

The lights were extremely dim, but did their job regardless.

The room look as if a hoarder lived in it, filled to the brim with gizmos and gadgets dating back to who knows how far back. The walls and shelves were all painted black, filled to the ceiling with cardboard boxes and plastic tubs of who knows what. Jirou couldn't help but stare in awe at the sheer amount of stuff packed into this room.

And now she had to dig through it.

Yay...

"I didn't sign up for this..." she muttered as she stepped over a few dropped boxes of dead flip phones and started her search.

The things that littered the floor and shelves ranged from small handheld devices to massive contraptions shoved against the walls in the dark corners of the room. Every kind of flip phone that ever existed was in there, from relatively recent models like the one Uraraka uses to old time devices that just might have dated to the late 1990s. None of them seemed to be working, and some even had cracked in their screens or were heavily chipped, so she imagined that they were mostly kept for parts.

She cringed as she accidentally kicked one, watching as the phone opened from the force of the hit and clattered against another box. It sometimes amazed her how sturdy those old phones are, seeing as it didn't even leave a dent. Uraraka would always rave about that, whenever she accidentally floated her phone and failed to catch it when she deactivated her quirk. That thing was still going strong with a bare minimum of dents, as amazing as it seemed.

Jirou startled when the screen suddenly lit up.

It blinked back at her, unassuming and daunting all at the same time, and for a moment, Jirou wondered absentmindedly if her luck really was turning around that sharply.

It was old, clearly a model from the early 2000s, but if it worked, it worked.

And that meant communication with the outside.

Jirou bit her lip as she stepped over and picked it up. Right now, alone and possibly in earshot of someone she really didn't want knowing her location, trying to make a call might be a bad idea.

Later, however, when she spoke with the others and they talked things out, might just be the breakthrough they were looking for.

Mind made up, she turned the flip phone off and pocketed it, hoping that it would turn back on again when she tried later. For all she knew, she just wasted her only chance. Pushing that thought back for the time being, she began rummaging around, ignoring the ominous door looming over her from the other side of the room.

_"There's an exit at the very far end of the backroom. We can escape through there." _

She knew it was there. An exit. An _escape._ She remembered Mr. Naofumi bringing it up. It was a dangerous move, considering that anyone could be walking around out there or watching for people trying to make a break for it, but it was still an option. She could run.

She ignored the door.

People are counting on her.

Pulling out Hamuro's chicken scratch sticky note, Jirou began looking around for headphones, or at least, things that looked like headphones. There was junk everywhere, so she had no idea where to even begin. Slowly wading through the mess, something else caught her eye, a pair of goggles sitting by themselves on a shelf amongst the rubble. Looking it over, Jirou gasped when she realized what they were, immediately grabbing them and looking through them intently.

The green tint had her grinning.

Night vision goggles were pretty useful, right?

She was just putting them on her head when she looked over by the entrance, where light bled through the crack under the door, and paused.

She was surprised she hadn't notice it before, considering how much it stood out in contrast to everything else, but the bright white shelf against the wall next to the door was glaringly obvious now. Next to it sat a bright red backpack, decorated with stickers and keychains and left open, revealing a dizzying number of books inside. Sidling up to it, Jirou smirked, eying all the hero merch stickers among the fruits, flowers, and hamsters scattered around. She immediately recognized Hawks, Mirko, and Kamui Woods immediately, as well as Ryukyu and Mt. Lady. There were several Fatgum stickers and a keychain of him as well, so she assumed that Hamuro was a fan of his in particular. There was also an All Might keychain, which only Jirou shaking her head fondly.

The books inside were mostly textbooks, with some extra ones on hero history and a biography or two. There were all several notebooks and loose papers on hero costume designs and ideas for inventions and support gear.

_"I wanted to be a hero once, remember? And heroes are brave." _

_"Kid had a pro hero phase that I don't think she ever got over." _

Jirou doesn't think so, either.

With a sad smile, Jirou carefully pulled out all of the books, notebooks, and papers, and set them in a neat pile on the side, leaving miscellaneous items and keychains there as well. She hoped that Hamuro didn't mind her using her backpack to carry whatever else they were gonna need. There were also a small toolkit in there, but Jirou ultimately decided to leave it there. Better safe than sorry.

She paused at the last thing left inside, a few photos haphazardly being crushed by all the books. The first picture was of Hamuro standing in front of what Jirou assumed was her middle school with Mr. Naofumi and a well-dressed woman holding his hand. Hamuro was grinned brightly, hands raised in the air gleefully as her uncle and likely her aunt smiled proudly.

There was a tall, lanky man standing on the other side of the picture, alone with his hands in his pockets and a lopsided, awkward smile. His short, almost buzzed hair was the color of wet sand and he had the same thick nerd glasses as Hamuro, so Jirou couldn't see his eyes, but there was a heavy slouched in his posture and his attention was solely on the camera rather than the girl next to him. If Jirou didn't know any better, she'd say that Hamuro was very discreetly trying to reach for his arm.

The second picture looked like some kind of fair, Hamuro and Mr. Naofumi standing by a contraption that Jirou couldn't even hope to identify, both covered in oil and dirt. In Hamuro's hands was a blue ribbon, smudged with the same grime that coated them while a teacher or judge of some kind stood on the other side of the booth, looking slightly uncomfortable. For some reason, there was a smiley face drawn in sharpie on the bottom right corner.

The third image was...strangely somber.

Hamuro looked to be about three or four years old, fast asleep. She was curled up in the lap of a different woman, who was also sleeping, leaning back against a couch with a face of peaceful contentment, even if she wasn't smiling in her sleep. Curly orange hair cascaded over her shoulders, perfectly matching that of the toddler in her lap.

The picture was of poor quality, shaky and smudged, and at the very bottom, a tiny arrow was written in sharpie. Curious, Jirou flipped the photograph over.

_**Never forget**_

...Perhaps that was enough of grossly breaching someone's privacy for one day.

Neatly setting the three photos on the discarded stack of books and throwing the flip phone and goggles inside for safe keeping, Jirou stood to investigate the white shelf. It was emptier than all the other shelves in the room, so spotting the pile of strange-looking headphones was blissfully easy. They almost looked like gaming headphones, with heavy black padding and built-in microphones, and weird, thick antennas sticking out of them. They were somewhat bulky, but still stylish, with cool red and orange streaks running along the smooth, gray exterior.

There were at least a dozen there, but Jirou ultimately decided to grab four. You never know when you'll need an extra.

On the bottom shelf was a box kindly and boldly labeled 'EYES'. Why can't everything be this easy?

Looking inside the box, Jirou found two metal spheres, both just a little bit bigger than her palm. The area that she assumed was the bottom was covered in small pores that made the surface feel bumpy and each one had what looked like a camera lens in the middle. Along with them was something akin to a gamecube controller.

They're really going for the whole 'antique' thing, huh?

There was one other thing in the box, another pair of goggles with a completely black surface. Jirou didn't know what it was for, but it was in the box with the eyes, so she might as well take it, too.

Again, you never know.

Stuffing everything into Hamuro's backpack, Jirou took one last look at the shelf, searching for anything eye-catching. In all honestly, the last item on the list was the thing she was looking forward to seeing the most.

_What the h*ll is a Tsar Bomba? _

Scanning over the shelves, she noticed a black metal box at the very top, sitting conspicuously alone at the very far end. With a huff, Jriou reached up for it, her fingers barely brushing it as she stood up on the very tips of her toes. She could already hear Kami laughing at her, the b*stard.

She missed him.

With one last heave, she managed to grab it, almost dropping it completely as she wobbled and fought to regain balance. She huffed even louder as she placed her prize on a lower shelf, examining it closely.

It was a safe.

She looked it over with a raised eyebrow, looking between it and the sticky note. What, was she supposed to bring the whole safe? Was it already open? Would she blow up if she tried?

Squinting at the note, a small smudge of graphite that only a psychopath or a doctor would consider actual handwriting caught her eye, sitting just under the Tsar Bomba rectangle. It felt like she was going cross-eyed as she stared at it, trying to make sense of what she was assuming were numbers and not some alien language that translated into some unholy screeching noises.

The first time she punched in a code, the number pads flashed red, and Jirou's own life flashed before her eyes. It took a few seconds to realize that she was still alive and the safe didn't blow up. Well, that's good at least.

It took her several more tries, but she eventually got it right, the pads flashing green and a loud clicking noise ringing out. Gingerly, Jirou pulled the little safe door open.

And a dozen USBs just unceremoniously spilled out.

Jirou stared down at the colorful flash drives now sitting at her feet, all with weird English names scribbled on them, like 'The Black Mist' or 'Spiraling Descent' or 'Sapphire Death'

'Dragon Balls' became a personal favorite very quickly.

Looking back in the safe, where only a few USBs were still sitting, there was one that stood out, mostly because it was the plainest looking one. The entire flash drive was black, the only defining feature being that it was also a keychain. Looking it over, 'TSAR BOMBA' in bold, harsh letters greeted her, and Jirou let out the breath she was holding.

What was even on this thing?

With a long, heavy sigh, Jirou tossed it into the bag, quickly zipping it up and hoisting it over her shoulders. She felt kind of bad about the mess, but she'd spent enough time here as it was. She didn't know if the others had finished up with what they were doing, but she somehow doubted that things were _completely_ smooth sailing on their end. She couldn't get to their rendezvous location from here through this vent system, anyway. She'd checked Hamuro's map more than once before she'd crawled up into the vents, after all.

She _might_ be able to get close to the security station, though...

* * *

Considering that he'd survived natural disasters and freak accidents, regularly soldiered through kidnappings and multiple attempts on his life, and had fought tooth and nail in some of the most high-octane, action-packed raids and battles in recent heroics history, all before even graduating high school, it almost seemed nonsensical, maybe even anticlimactic, that _this_ was the hardest that his heart had ever beat against his chest.

Hand tightly gripping Orange's wrist, Bakugou quickly but carefully navigated through the dark maze of shelves and crates, cringing and tensing at every grunt or yelp that his companion involuntarily let out. Beams of light were blazing through the darkness, cutting through the pitch black like lighthouses in a deep fog, shouts echoing through the massive warehouse-like room. Bakugou estimated that there were at the very least, in a best-case scenario, seven people chasing them, but somehow, he doubted that he'd be so lucky that there were only two measly f*ckheads guarding the loading dock.

The kid was once again proving herself to be a step above a deadweight, keeping pace with him in a show of stamina that was easily above average for a civilian. Even as he clung to her wrist, she fought valiantly to keep up, stumbling and staggering from sheer clumsiness more than anything else.

"Over there!" she exclaimed, as if he could actually see where she was pointing. "That's the other door out into the hallway!"

"I ain't blind, brat!" he shot back, skidding to a halt by the wall and tensing as the kid rammed right into his back, nearly falling _again._

"The security station is right next door." she barreled on through ragged breaths. "I can get to it from here easy. The problem is that there's definitely gonna be guards in there and nearby."

"And that's where I come in." Bakugou muttered, mostly to himself. With one swift motion, he practically threw Orange against the wall, glaring into her thick glasses, where her eyes supposedly were. "Listen, Orange. For this to work, you have to be _patient._" He chose to ignore the irony of that coming out of his mouth. "Don't just charge in. Wait until you know _for sure_ that the cost is clear, because I won't be able to come save you if you get your a*s caught."

Orange gulped loudly, nodding fervently as she nervously wrung her hands. She didn't say anything, simply biting her lip and scuffing her feet as he let her go, taking a step back to give her one last look over. Anxiety was rolling off of her in waves, her little hamster climbing up her sweater to her shoulder and rubbing against her jaw. It made his skin crawl and his unnaturally cold and quiet hands ache, letting this girl throw herself into the fray like this, but he can also remember being this age, already throwing himself into trouble just as quickly as Deku would with his one-track mindset of becoming the greatest hero that Japan has ever seen.

This kid said she once wanted to be a hero, and if her natural physical ability and raw determination in the face of uncertainty were anything to go by, then maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't end up as a complete disaster.

If f*cking Deku could do it, then to h*ll with it.

With a swift nod, satisfied as the girl ducked down behind something near the open entryway, he spun on his heel and sprinted back into the maze. Beacons of light shone in the darkness, waving around rapidly as guards searched through the dock. He could hear a feminine voice shrieking something, but it sounded like unintelligible garbling when reverberating against the walls and high ceiling. From the looks of it, even though he couldn't see quite as clearly in the darkness, there were definitely more than seven people running around, though not by much.

He couldn't be sure though, considering that he didn't know what exactly they were armed with. More than likely, the guys who were already guarding the docks had some kind of night vision equipment, and also more than likely had a solid layout of the room. Even if the cover of darkness was an advantage to him, the fact that he could barely see anything and didn't know what was immediately around him was a huge f*cking problem. He hoped beyond hope that there weren't any guards he missed on the other side of the room going after the girl.

He sped right through a beam of light, shielding his eyes as best as he could to not immediately blind himself as he plunged back into the dark, the guards' shouts chasing after him. He grinned manically, a hysteric laugh just at the back of his throat as he picked up his pace and hauled a*s as if the entirety of his future career depended on it.

The air nearly left his lungs when a guard seemed to materialize directly in front of him out of nowhere, appearing from the pitch black abyss like an apparition. Adrenaline pumping through his wildly pounding heart, his quick reflexes were the only thing that saved him from the embarrassment of being caught so quickly, sidestepping one way and ducking and bolting in the other. The guard flailed, hand just barely brushing through Bakugou's hair before he hit a shelf and tripped on his own feet like a newborn fawn.

His grin widened. Who knew it could be so exhilarating to just casually break some f*cker's ankles.

Gunfire pulled him out of his reverie, loud pings leaving his ears ringing as he skidded around a corner. Gold suit lady was yelling again, already on them for firing at him, so Bakugou took the opportunity to run deeper into the shelf maze. Clearly, she wanted him alive for whatever reason, likely her boss's command, if he remembered correctly. If that was the case, then if they did decide to take more potshots at him, they would likely aim for his limbs, particularly his legs. With that in mind, it would probably be smarter to stay low to the ground, if he could help it.

If he knew for sure that they didn't have night vision, then this wouldn't be as much of an issue. It would be so much easier.

But since when was anything in his life ever easy?

He could hear heavy footfall ahead of him, the heavy echoes almost drowning out direction, and without so much as a thought, he shoved himself into a through one of the shelves, boxes spilling out the other side as he gracelessly stumbled out and kept running. He felt a flashlight hit his back for a moment, but it was gone the next, lost in the sea of blackness and erratically-moving beacons. The loud cursing behind him did nothing but put a smile on his face.

The spray of damaged goods directly in front of him actually startled him enough to make him gasp, a flash of gold and a glint of steel his only warnings before he was blocking his face, a searing pain running through his arm as he stumbled back. He could feel blood running down his forearm, the dripping against the floor almost too loud in his ears. A pair of golden eyes pierced through the darkness, as if she was staring right through him as the shine of a blood-stained knife and unnaturally sharp canine teeth called for his attention.

And suddenly, all he saw was a blonde psycho schoolgirl grinning at him with sadistic glee from the back of a dimly-lit bar.

Bakugou barely ducked out of the way of her next swing, her annoyed snarl and barred teeth helping to pull him back into reality. Her enraged eyes seemed to glow against her wild snow white hair, and if he looked close enough, he could see giant freckles dotting her cheeks that reminded him all too easily of the sh*tnerd.

He distantly wondered how his moronic class was doing.

The storm of wild swings that came at him was like dodging bullets in the matrix, barely visible to his own eye as he moved almost entirely on instinct. The few shallow cuts she got on him were less than child's play.

To be fair, that first slash in his arm sure did sting like h*ll, though.

In the echoing dock, sound bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball and leaving him with a near incoherent wave of noise to work with, the sound of footfall behind him was nearly drowned out. He found himself pressing up against the shelf as a guard flew past, unable to stop their momentum as Gold Suit scrambled out of the way. Eyes adjusted to the dark, Bakugou could make out the shapes of more guards coming at him, and he realized with startling clarity just how detrimental staying in one place could be in this situation. Now wasn't the time to get swarmed. Fighting while outnumbered wasn't quite a walk in the park without his quirk.

He ducked under the next guard's swing, jabbing a third in their soft midsection with his elbow and sidestepping as another gunshot sounded out, ricocheting violently off the cement floor. He winced as a flashlight momentarily blinded him, a strong grip around his uninjured arm setting his nerves ablaze as if he was sitting in the middle of a bonfire, but he grit his teeth and in the motion of a roundhouse kick, threw his knee into the guard's side.

The pained cough, only muffled by their helmet, was music in his ears as their grip loosened and he wrenched himself free, roughly shoving himself through another shelf and crawling through the bottom of another. Noise was becoming indistinguishable, coming from every direction in a storm of beats and frequencies that left his head spinning, so he didn't know who was where or how many there were. It may have been a placebo effect or his own imagination, but it felt like there were more of them now than there were originally.

Clenching his teeth, whipping around to glance at all possible directions, he realized that he was likely cornered here, with no other direction to go.

No other direction but up.

It would make him an easier target, but it was better than letting himself get swarmed.

With fast, calculated movements, he climbed up the tall metal structure, stretching up several dozen shelves until it disappeared into the blackness. He paid no mind to whatever he ended up knocking over in his scramble to reach the top, the sound of falling products drowned out by the headache-inducing waves of stomping and yelling. He didn't hear any gunshots, but he didn't know how long that would last.

The shelves themselves were mercifully wide, giving him plenty of room to maneuver around as he needed. The shelves were spaced relatively far apart, giving both him a wide distance to jump and lots of room for his enemies to move around. It also didn't help that he could barely see far enough to properly judge the distance.

Not that he had much of a choice.

With every ounce of strength he had, he leaped, nearly overshooting it entirely and barely catching himself before he could roll over the other side of the opposite shelf and fall back to the hard cement floor. Not even a second later, he was back on his feet, his next jump much smoother. He didn't like the way the shelf wobbled underneath him, almost as if it was dangerously top-heavy.

He checked behind him completely by chance, his eyes widening a fraction as he jerked back, twisting out of the way of the unexpected knife spinning through the air like a frisbee. He cringed as he felt the blade scrape against the side of his head as it flew past, cutting through his hair and nearly slicing off his upper ear before flying off into the dark room and clinking against a distant piece of metal.

He whirled back towards his attacker, a wild grin on his face as Gold Suit leaped after him, climbing over the shelves with practiced ease that had his fingers itching for a familiar, protective heat. Her eyes were sharp, a sureness in them that made his veins burn like an inferno and goosebumps run along his arms. He suppressed a hiss as pain shot through his bleeding arm.

"You're tenacious." she huffed in irritation. "I'll give you that."

They were only a single shelf apart, flashlights piercing through the room like spotlights as they stared each other down. He hoped that his eyes glowed just as dangerously as hers.

He grinned wildly, teeth barred, almost in a sneer and eyes wide with mania. Gold Suit's eyebrow twitched in response. "You're one of those people, huh?" She exhaled irately. "The stubborn, bullheaded type."

He felt surrounded, guards swarming around the room like hornets in a disturbed nest. Gold Suit's eyes hardened. "Schrodinger already has enough on his plate. I will _not_ let some kid cause him any more grief."

* * *

**"_We've got a runner in the loading dock._"**

"Yeah, I'm watching the hustle right now. Kid's really giving you all the slip."

The man almost sounded like he was laughing, the person on the speaker grumbling something irritably over the wall of static and white noise. "Why'd you stop shooting at him?"

**"_Umineko won't let us, orders from the big boss man, so we're all stuck here playing tag with, what, a sixteen-year-old?_"**

"Sounds like a grand ol' time."

**"_B*stard._"**

**"_F*ck!_"** a feminine voice shot through the speakers. **"_Brat's faster than he looks! We need reinforcements on the other side of the dock! Box him in!_"**

A raised eyebrow. "Ma'am, I'm manning the security station at the moment. You really want me to-?"

**"_This is more important! I'm your superior and this is a direct order! Get your a*s in here and help us grab this kid before he makes us look like complete fools! I will _not_ let him embarrass Schrodinger like this!_"**

With a long sigh, the man reluctantly set the cameras, double-checking that they were recording, and slipped on his helmet, pushing out of his swivel chair and jogging out of the station, a small handgun already in his grip. From the looks of it, he was the only one in the hall, everyone else focused entirely on the chaos that was the loading docks. Obviously, her companion wasn't gonna be pulling any punches.

Hamuro smiled, albeit wobbly. Things were moving faster than she'd thought they would.

With quick, shaky steps, Hamuro slipped into the now empty security station, Ham scampering in on the floor next to her. For whatever reason, the little pitter-patter of his tiny feet helped to feel just a little bit at ease. Whether it be running on his wheel or chewing on his favorite toy, the little squeaks and scratches and other noises always helped to put her at ease, ever since her father had given him to her for her twelfth birthday.

It almost made up for the fact that he didn't even bother to visit for her thirteenth.

Almost.

_Not the time, Mika. _

The room was bathed in a bluish hue, the open doors to her left and right making her feel something akin to exposed. The wall in front of her was dominated by six screens, each one with sixteen different cameras monitoring different parts of the building. From her understanding, there was more than one security station, allowing each night guard to observe different parts of the mall and not overwhelm one person with so many feeds.

Ham climbed up her leg and scaled her skirt, clumsily pulling himself onto the desk as Hamuro fumbled with the keyboard and control panel. From the looks of it, most of the cameras were down for some reason, with only a few cameras feeds coming through. Looking over the scattered screens, all she could see were empty halls, the plazas and employee areas completely cut off.

Hamuro frowned. The only reason she could think of to do that would be to hide things. The police are probably hacked into the system right now, tracking the feeds and looking at the same things that she is, so villains are hiding things from them, such as hostage locations and hiding places, by downing cameras.

Smart.

Swallowing her nerves, Hamuro fiddled with the controls, wincing at the loud screeching of the speakers. She didn't like the scratching noises it was making, unintelligible noises her only answers as she tried to connect with someone.

It shouldn't be impossible to connect with the police outside. There had to be a way to contact them.

Through the static, Hamuro thought she could hear something, almost like human voices. Heart pounding, she messed with the dials, one hand on the control panel and the other typing commands on the keyboard, looking through the programming of the security cameras. From the looks of it, they weren't cut off by conventional means, otherwise the police would have remotely turned them back on themselves.

**"_...Ther-...sig-...nor-..._"**

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite put and name or face to it. Taking a deep breath, Hamuro put all of her focus on the knobs of the control panel, trying desperately to strengthen the signal.

"Hello?" she tried. "Can anybody hear me?"

**"_Ca-...m-?_"**

Hamuro gasped, suddenly back in Uncle Nao's truck, laughing and joking while listening to reruns of Present Mic's talk show on the car radio.

She _did_ know this voice!

"Hello? Mr. Present Mic? Uh, I'm a- a civilian! Um, if you can hear me, uh, the north loading dock is distracting a lot of the guards! If you can act fast enough...-!"

**"_Repe-...-e ca-... Are y-..._"**

_"Are you still on about that hero stuff, Mika?" _

"Hello?" Hamuro called desperately. "Can you hear me? Please, hear me!"

**"_Which station is this?_"**

Hamuro blanched. She didn't recognize that voice.

Crackling static and bits of shredded sentences filled the air as Hamuro stared intently up at the screens. She didn't know what was blocking her connection, but this clearly wasn't working. Other stations were probably trying to track her now, putting her in danger. She could cut off her connection, but it would also cut off her feeble contact with the outside world.

Looking up at the screens, Hamuro could see the empty halls, void of human life outside of the occasional patrolling guard, and Hamuro found herself at an impasse.

Leave her signal open and trust the heroes to track their location or cut it off and hide both herself and her new friend fighting for his life one room over.

Keep trying to talk and let someone else save the day or put her efforts into doing something more productive.

Be selfish or be a hero.

_"Promise me you'll never try to become a pro hero." _

Tears welled up in her eyes.

_ "But mom-!" _

_ "Promise me, Mika!" _

The static of the empty screens glared back at her.

And Hamuro grinned.

She had a plan.

**"_Hel...? Y-...ll the...?_"**

She cut off the connection.

If neither the villains nor the heroes could track her location, then the effects of what she's about to do would last longer.

She knew she only had so much time now, so she focused solely on the keyboard, fingers flying as she typed out command after command into the console. Uncle Nao had always been an I.T. nerd at heart, and now everything he'd ever taught her was going to come to more use than she could have ever imagined.

"Come on..." she mumbled mindlessly, sweat soaking her brow as cameras slowly began to become enabled. The faster she worked, the more she could turn on. Ham watched her silently. "Come on..."

Camera feeds started turning on, groups of people being revealed with every screen that lit up. From here, she could already make several educated guesses as to where the groups were located, and if the heroes knew where the hostages were, then that meant that they could find ways to infiltrate from a distance more safely.

And if the exact location of the broadcasting feeds was no longer easily traceable, then that would also give the heroes more time.

_"Your life is more important than theirs, Mika." _

_ "Mom..." _

_ She squeezed her little hand tightly. "Your life is far more important..." her voice wobbled. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you..." _

Something strange caught her eye.

She'd been activating cameras at random, using the most complicated coding she could remember, when she noticed it, a strange room somewhere on the second floor in the northwest of the building, if the camera name was anything to go by. She didn't recognize what the room was for, but she was pretty sure that the machine inside hadn't always been there.

The machine almost looked like a pillar, hidden behind a dome of some kind made of a thin see-through material. There were bright lights running along the sides, weak streams of lightning flowing through it like a plasma ball. Several guards were standing around it, the room flickering and flashing as electricity ran through it aimlessly. In the back of the room, she could see several broken belts, the red bulbs looking as if they'd violently exploded, and none of the guards surrounding it had them on.

She didn't know why, but the strange-looking machine easily caught her attention. She made a mental note of its general location, hoping beyond all hope that she wouldn't forget.

Another camera registered her commands, flashing on just as a mess of shouting and crashing cutting through the speakers made her jump out of her skin. Fumbling with her now askew glasses, she stared up at the commotion with wide eyes, realizing instantly that she was looking at a camera from the loading docks, guards scrambling as a familiar figure with blonde hair sped across the screen. Close by, a white-haired woman's golden suit gleamed in the light.

Hamuro stared, feeling her breath leave her all at once.

_Why are the lights on?!_

* * *

As it turns out, Gold Suit lady can put up quite the fight.

He was pretty sure he'd blinked and she was across the gap and on him, another knife in her hand as he jumped back. He could feel the blade cutting through his bangs, a burst of severed blonde hairs fluttering in the air between them. Between his own instincts and reflexes and the glint against the steel blade from distant flashlights, he dodged and weaved with relative ease. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it was the dead of night, in the rubble of a battlefield as six villains descended on him. Her knife cut through the air, so close that he could feel the air splitting against his skin.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt familiar, comforting heat against his palms, and he could remember swinging abruptly, watching as the psycho b*tch flew back with a crazed smile and disappeared into the smoke.

At least he had his own brand of firearms while escaping from that nightmare.

His breath left him when his foot hit the edge of the shelf, his body falling back as her knife swung right over his head. Clumsily catching himself, feeling the shelf wobbling dangerously, he put his weight into leaning the shelf one way as much as he could, watching with delight as golden boots gracelessly stumbled in the dark. With a deep inhale, he threw himself over the widening gap towards the next stable shelf, hoping that the slowly building domino effect behind him could offer some decent cover.

And then he was blinded, and the air left his lungs all over again in one sudden _whoosh!_

_Who turned the f*cking lights on!? _

Over the shocked and surprised shouts of guards trying to scatter out of the way of falling shelves and heavy boxes filled with who knows what, Bakugou relished in Gold Suit's angry, panicked shout as the sound of metal structures and heavy containers smashing into the ground drowned it out, but the unexpected flash of all-encompassing light did nothing for his nerves. It felt like his eyes were on fire, and for a moment, he actually forgot that he was midair.

As it turned out, he undershot his jump, his lower midsection slamming into the edge of the shelf hard enough to knock the wind out of him. The screeching of metal directly below him left him with an annoying buzzing in his ears, and suddenly, it felt like Round Face had used her quirk on the entire d*mn shelf.

It was like slow motion as he tipped forward, the same f*cking domino effect being set in motion as he tried to scramble to his feet, coughing as air slowly refilled his abused lungs. He didn't even hesitate as he leaped for the next shelf, the momentum of the one behind him jerking him forward as the same sensation overtook him all over again. He was shaky on his feet, but he jumped for the next one all the same, even as the next one was already falling forward.

And just like that, he found himself sloppily running along the tops of shelves as they continued to fall, the wall of noise creating a perfect cacophony of echoes that he was sure would leave him deaf more quickly than any explosion could ever hope to.

From up here, now bathed in light, he could see just how far the room expanded, stretching out to a completely open area where several semi-truck trailers were set. The massive metal gate behind them clearly led to the outside, sunlight streaming through the tiny windows horizontally lining each gate. Towards his left, he could see more shelves, all lined perpendicularly to where he was now, slowly falling lower and lower towards the grounds as the shelves shifted dangerously as they fell.

He was honestly impressed that he hadn't somehow stepped through one of the open shelves and missed the railings completely.

He was also impressed that no one had shot him yet.

Suddenly fully aware of how out in the open he was, he eyed the open ground to his left, riding the next shelf down and jumping off as the thunderous crash shot through the air behind him. In the distance, he could see more shelves tipping over, more shouts off in the distance as people ran for cover from the storm of debris came barreling down for them.

As far as he was aware, no one ahead of him was aware of his exact position.

With that in mind, he should have been paying more attention to what was behind him.

He couldn't help the strangled gasp lost in the sea of noise as his leg was violently pulled out in from under him, leaving him flailing as he fell face-first onto the cement ground below. With a strong grimace, his hands scrambled for purchase, fingers curling around a peg of a particularly full shelf. Ignoring the high-pitched screeching noise that violently penetrated his skull, his eyes whipped down towards his ankle, some kind of large plated metal object not unlike a giant f*ck off centipede tightly coiling around it.

He growled, trying to process what was happening as his glare shot over to a guard a few collapsed shelves away, trapped under the mess of metal and helmet clearly missing. There was nothing particularly memorable about the jack*ss's ugly face other than the scar over his eye and the multiple cuts on his lips and chin, all with his weird f*cking metal centipede tongue.

_**Wait- **_

For a moment, he stared at his hands, still cold and clammy and without their usual bright glow, and suddenly, the grip around his ankle felt a hundred times tighter. No sooner had he checked his hand did Tongue F*cker yank him back, tearing him away from his hold and leaving him grappling for something else, anything to slow him down before the guards had a proper hold on him, and for a moment, real panic shot through his system. It was precarious, but his fingers once again found themselves wrapping around a shelf railing, white-knuckle grips as the entire shelf seemed to lurched forward and the awful scraping noise assaulted him once again.

The guard, _the villain_ made an irate gargling noise, tugging on his leg so hard that he was pulling the heavy shelf along with him. Eyes darting around wildly, light hit something to his left just perfectly to pull for his attention, and Bakugou's eyes widened at the sight of Gold Suit's bloody knife. Even above the approaching shouting and pounding footsteps, his expression hardened, eyes blazing as he lunged for the discarded weapon. For a moment, it felt like he was being torn apart, gritting his teeth hard enough to crack them as his fingers brushed the handle.

In that single moment, between when he reached for the knife and Tongue F*cker pulled him off of the railing, he was once again very aware of how clammy and cold and _dry_ his hands were.

The knife handle fit nicely in his hand.

The next thing he knew, he'd shoved the blade behind one of the metal plates of the centipede tongue, blood gushing out like water out of a garden hose. Tongue F*cker screamed, his weird metal centipede tongue flying back into his mouth in a spray of crimson. There was a loud snapping sound from the sudden movement, Bakugou blinking dumbly at the knife handle, where a blade used to be, as the trapped villain writhed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, where a real person with real emotions was probably hiding, he hoped that he didn't actually kill the guy. Bleeding from the tongue wasn't exactly great for your health, to put it lightly.

He could think about the implications of some random f*ck successfully activating his quirk in here later.

At the moment, he had more pressing matters, such as the other guard now running at him full tilt with a semi-automatic firearm.

The panic that flashed through his eyes was nearly impossible to cover up as he stumbled back behind the shelf, flinching at the bullet pinging against the railing next to him. At this point, he didn't know what the clusterf*ck he caused from playing dominoes with giant metal shelves looked like, but he knew for sure that Gold Suit and the rest of them would be collecting themselves and coming after him again any minute now.

With that in mind, he needed to make his next move and he needed to make it now.

And so, what happened next, if anyone asked him, just might be one of the coolest things he's ever done without his quirk.

Apparently, rifles made idiots think they were invincible, because Mr. Semi-automatic over there didn't even stop to peek around the corner, whipping around so fast that he was sure they both felt whiplash from the movement. Bakugou was only staring down the barrel for less than a second before he was roughly batting it away, leaving his right ear with nothing but a dull ringing and a hollow thrumming.

So much for not wanting to kill him, because _f*ck. _

In one swift motion, he grabbed the jack*ss's arm and tugged him forward, once again jutting his knee into the guard's vulnerable midsection. The loud wheeze was almost lost in all the noise, but it was still music to his ears.

He didn't allow himself to dwell on it for long, refusing to give his opponent the chance to breathe as he immediately shoved his right elbow into the same weak point, throwing the d*ckhead even farther forward. With a vicious grin, he finished him off, jabbing the handle of the broken knife into his jugular and watching with satisfaction as the guard completely toppled over, rifle slipping from his hands and clattering to the floor, chain and all.

_A chain that was- _

Bakugou was fully aware that he was wasting precious seconds by just standing there gawking, but it really did take him that embarrassingly long to register just what he was looking at.

The first time he'd encountered a guard, when this whole mess had started, he'd tried to take a gun. He admittedly didn't know all that much about them, as he'd never needed to use one before, but the basics on how they worked were straightforward. The problem was that apparently, these villains had thought ahead about people trying to steal their weaponry. With each gun he'd pulled at, some kind of chain was there attaching it to the armor, one that he couldn't break with brute strength no matter how hard he tried, effectively keeping anyone from taking them. It didn't stop someone from getting a hold of one and shooting the guard with it at point blank, but most people either didn't have the guts to go that far or were legally obligated to...well, _not. _

This guard was clearly not the careful type, because from the looks of things, said chain hadn't been secured.

Instead, the moment he hit the ground, it just sorta...popped out.

Bakugou stared.

"_You're joking..._" he muttered to himself, snapping out of his shocked silence and quickly grabbing the firearm. About a year ago, if someone had told him that he'd need to use a firearm at any point in his life, he'd have laughed in their face, and then exploded them just to prove a point. H*ll, maybe the same thing would have happened yesterday. Either way, holding this thing was almost surreal to him, after living his entire life as a literal living weapon.

There was movement in his peripheral, pulling for his attention as he raised his new weapon dangerously. Gold Suit's eyes went wide, mouth hanging open as she scrambled back at the sight of the barrel of a gun staring back at her. "You won't!" she hissed.

He narrowed his eyes at her, quickly backing up. There was still a chance that someone was gonna go around and attack from behind, or simply cut off his escape. He could already hear Aizawa sternly lecturing the class on the dangers of hesitation.

Between that and Bakugou's already fantastic aim, Gold Suit stepping forward was a mistake on her part.

_**BANG!**_

The recoil wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting, weaker than that of his gauntlets, but the sound was excruciatingly painful, practically pressed against his ear and reverberating against his eardrum with the gentleness of an icepick to the skull. It was just a warning shot, the bullet ricocheting off another shelf railing and shooting off somewhere that he didn't see, but the effect was exactly what he wanted, Gold Suit's eyes going impossibly wide as she clumsily skittered back, a loud curse escaping her lips.

The next millisecond, he was turning on his heel and sprinting away, already ready for opposition and to go down swinging if he had to.

"_Target is armed!_" he heard Gold Suit scream from somewhere behind him. "_Permission to kill if necessary!_"

Bakugou grinned viciously.


	8. Escapade: The Stand Pt2

_It was time to leave. _

Hamuro shook in her sneakers, nerves shooting up her spine and leaving her breathless. The loading dock was practically a warzone, with Bakugou against what looked like more than a dozen guards and a crazy lady with nothing but what was probably a partially loaded semi-automatic rifle and no quirk. Meanwhile, someone was already trying to take down the cameras she'd put up, fighting tooth and nail to get past her coding and destroy all the progress she'd made.

She found it interesting that the feed with the weird giant machine was the first thing they tried to take down, and they were doing it with fervor.

Movement pulled at her attention, Hamuro biting her lip as Bakugou narrowly escaped capture, or were they trying to kill him? Maybe both? Or different people had different goals?

Either way, it was bad.

But it wasn't like she could run in there and help him. Face scrunched up in thought, Hamuro turned to look at Ham, her hamster looking back up at her thoughtfully. His gaze was expectant, as if he was waiting for her to say something, _do_ something, and Hamuro, frankly, was at a loss.

What could she do?

"There has to be something..." she muttered to herself. "A distraction, at least... A cover."

She looked at Ham again, eyes slowly lighting up as he continued to watch her, waiting.

Looking quickly between the screens and Ham, Hamuro bit her lip. She didn't want to be alone, but...

It was _something. _

Face hardened with determination, her fiery gaze landed on Ham one last time, the little hamster rising onto his hind legs in response. "Ham," she said slowly, voice strong. "Lights off."

Ham squeaked in response, leaping off the desk and scurrying off somewhere that she couldn't follow. A chill ran down her spine as she suddenly found herself completely isolated, unsteady hands barely functioning as the camera with the weird machine was almost brought down. At this rate, they would definitely trace her soon, if they hadn't already.

_ It was _definitely_ time to leave. _

Another camera came online, Hamuro deciding that she'd done all she could at this point before something caught her eye.

It was like someone suddenly threw a bucket of ice water over her head.

It was a hostage group, one of three that she could see from these cameras. Considering that there were other stations looking over different parts of the mall, and just how many people were in here during the initial attack, there were bound to be more that she wasn't seeing.

This group was on the second floor, near one of the main plazas. From what she could see, it was the most active of the three crowds of people, with lots of movement in the back of the group. Guards were also surrounding them, not threatening them, but still watching them closely.

Considering how many people were there, she shouldn't have been able to see him. She was surprised that she could make out his face at all.

But her eyes practically locked right onto him, the air leaving her lungs as recognition hit her like a freight train. Her hands shook like leaves, slowly rising to gently rest on the screen near his image.

"Uncle Nao..." she whispered, eyes glistening with tears. Even if the image was fuzzy, he looked unharmed, and that meant _everything. _

_"Thank you for keeping an eye on her for me, Suika." _

_ Hamuro's aunt eyed her father disapprovingly, lips pursed as she held tightly to Uncle Nao's arm. "Yes," she sneered. "Anything for you, _dear brother._" _

_ At the time, Hamuro hadn't quite understood why her aunt was so upset, but she supposed she'd always been slow when it came to reading the room. At ten years old, she'd been a prodigy in technology and mechanics, but her social skills were beyond dismal. _

_ Was that really an excuse, though? _

_ "Mika," Uncle Nao suddenly spoke up. "Do you remember those parts I said I found at a pawn shop last week? Would you like to see them?" _

_ Hamuro nodded fervently, heaving her bright red suitcase up the stairs of her aunt and uncle's home with vigor. It wasn't that heavy, after all. She could do it herself! _

She was pretty sure she still had that suitcase. Red was her mother's favorite color, and the painfully bright shade often reminded Hamuro of her.

She wondered if she reminded her father of her. They looked so similar. She often wondered if that was why...

_ "I can't believe you!" Auntie Sui had shouted as the door shut behind them. "Do you really think that this is what Benio would have wanted!? How selfish can you be!?" _

_ "Ignore them." Uncle Nao had said gently, guiding her through the house. "You know how siblings are. Always fighting." _

_ Uncle Nao had smiled brightly, Hamuro's own face lighting up at his jolly laugh. Sometimes, it reminded her of All Might. _

_ She remembered the first couple of days at their home fondly, tinkering with some of Uncle Nao's antiques and building a whole computer alongside him as he told her funny stories with silly voices and ridiculous faces that still made her laugh. They'd built more computers since then, and she'd even made her own, but that one had been special, one of the first things they made together. They still have it back in their basement. _

_ She remembered enjoying that weekend visit, her father off on some business trip across the country that he seemed to have accepted on a whim. Hamuro had been disappointed that he would miss her school cultural festival that same weekend, but she understood. _

_ She understood when work held him an extra day, even though she missed him. He still called her often, telling her how much he loved her. _

_ She understood when a day turned into a couple days, because work could be hard. She understood when his calls started to dwindle. _

_ But then days turned into weeks._

_ And weeks turned into months. _

_ It had scared her, when she woke up one morning and realized that he might not come back at all. She hadn't understood why, begging her aunt and uncle to tell her what she did wrong. Tell her what she did so that she could fix it. _

_ Auntie Sui just had smiled sadly, carting her fingers through her hair and telling her that it wasn't her fault. _

_ And Uncle Nao? That night, Uncle Nao went out and set up a tent in the backyard. He brought out a grill that he'd built himself and a set of chairs and sleeping bags with room just for the two of them. _

_ And they sat under the night sky, bellies full with American-style barbeque and roasted marshmallows and tired from scrambling to put out the fire they'd nearly caused, gazing up at the stars as the cicadas screeched and the warm breeze blew softly through the trees, and Hamuro cried as Uncle Nao listed every single little thing that he loved about her. _

_ Her father came to visit a grand total of three times after that day, for her eleventh and twelfth birthdays and that one time she'd fallen on a large piece of glass and cut her leg open. He'd visited her in her hospital room with a bouquet of flowers and a strained smile, looking sad and miserable and about twenty years older than he actually was. _

_ They barely said a word to each other. _

Sometimes, she wished that he could just tell her that he didn't love her anymore.

She still asked sometimes, why he didn't come back, what she did. Uncle Nao always said the same thing. _"It wasn't because of you, kiddo, so don't worry about it. All that matters is you're a good kid and you'll always have people who love you."_

"Uncle Nao..."

_"You'll always have me, Mika." _

She fought to control her breathing, teardrops spilling over her cheeks. "I... I'm gonna save you, Uncle Nao."

_"Promise me you'll never become a hero!" _

_ "But mom-!"_

"I'll save you, and everyone else, too. A-A-And I'll be a hero, just like I've always dreamed of, even if it's just for a moment."

_"Promise me, Mika!"_

Distant gunfire snapped her out of her trance.

With a gasp, the orange-haired girl realized that she was wasting time. She didn't even know how long she'd been standing there, just waiting for someone to turn the corner and walk right in on her. Scanning around the room, double, triple, and quadruple checking that she hadn't missed anything important, she took a deep breath, steeled herself, and quickly darted out of the room.

Right into a guard.

For a moment, all she could do was stare, left speechless at the sheer dumb luck she'd just been presented with. Apparently, from the stillness that followed, the guard was just as stunned.

The long pause as they silently stared at each other was almost comedic.

"..."

"..."

"WHAT THE H*LL ARE YOU-!?"

Hamuro shrieked, turning on her heel and hightailing it down the hall as she ran screaming. She didn't know which direction she going, but she supposed it didn't matter. She just hoped that she didn't end up running into someone else.

The sheer relief of turning the corner and finding no one there was pure bliss.

She sprinted down the hall at full speed, barely taking the time to appreciate the warm glow of the bright lights that had replaced the dim, red emergency lights that they'd found when they first got here. She didn't even notice the burning in her legs or the way her hands were still shaking or how her heart was racing. All that mattered was getting as far away from here as possible.

She couldn't let Bakugou and Jirou down by getting caught now.

The wind started to pick up, sending Hamuro's hysteria to whole new levels as she blindly fought against it, panicking at her slowing pace as the wind grew stronger, nearly knocking her off of her feet and back the way she came.

She then wondered how in the world there was wind inside a completely closed off hallway.

Bracing herself against the powerful current trying to blow her away, Hamuro dared to look back, clutching her glasses as they threatened to fly off her face and into the unknown. With one glance, she realized with all-encompassing dread that she wasn't being blown away at all.

She was being sucked in.

Behind her, the guard stood at the end of the hall idly, a giant vacuum cleaner in the space where his hand should be. Hamuro eyes widened as she tried to push farther away, her feet starting to slide against the cement floor.

"I don't know how you got in here," the guard yelled over the windy current, helmet suddenly missing, and oh, it's a girl. "But you're not getting out! I won't let you!"

Hamuro whined, reaching for a large pipe for purchase just as her feet were swept her from under her. She clung to the pipe as if her life depended on it, arms shaking from the strained as she pulled herself forward, wrapping her arms around her safety.

"Tenacious..." the guard said, walking closer. The closer she got, the stronger the vacuum's power. "You're stronger than you look, too."

How did this girl even have vacuums for hands? Was this her quirk?

They can use their quirks?!

She didn't have any way of testing that, so she simply clung even tighter, cringing at the loud groaning noise the pipe was making. She wondered what was gonna get sucked up first. Her glasses, her shoes, or herself.

Was this really how it ended?

"H- Help!"

Her arms were tired, stiff and sore from exertion, and she could already feel herself slipping. Tears of frustration streamed down her face, only to get sucked away.

"I'm sorry..."

"You're wasting my time, kid." the guard huffed. "Just give up and let go-"

If Hamuro had been paying attention, she might have seen the grate on the vent directly above them get stomped out of place in a single motion.

The bent grate cover slammed into her head with a clang, the guard nearly toppling right over. Hamuro nearly fell to the ground as the guard lady spun around, eyes wild. "_What-!?_"

A body flew out of the grate, swinging forward as they clung to the opening of the vent and in one swift motion, used the weight of their entire body to throw a kick right into the guard's exposed chin. She instantly crumbled to the floor in a heap, eyes dazed and body slack as Hamuro breathed heavily, collecting herself.

"Wow," a familiar voice spoke coolly. "That's actually really satisfying."

Hamuro dared to look behind her, up at the girl still hanging from the vent opening, and her eyes lit up as she registered the muted shock of dark purple hair. "_Jirou!_"

"Yo." Jirou greeted. "Hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Hamuro could have cried from happiness as she stumbled towards Jirou's dangling form, but her relief was cut short by the sound of pounding footsteps.

Jirou's eyes widened. "Sounds like they're coming from both ways." she said, pulling herself back up into the vent. She then reached her hand out. "Come on! We gotta go!"

Hamuro stared back up at her wide-eyed, looking between her and the way she'd come. "But... But what about Bakugou?!"

Jirou cringed, only hesitating for a moment. "Bakugou can take care of himself! He'll meet us there!"

Hamuro bit her lip. "Promise?"

Jirou grinned. "...Yeah. Now hurry up! There's no time!"

Grabbing the discarded vent cover, Hamuro grabbed onto Jirou's hand with a running leap, the two girls fighting desperately to pull Hamuro's weight all the way up into the vent before they could be spotted. Shuffling her way in, Hamuro quickly held the cover back in place as the two of them froze, watching as guards ran past them in both directions, some pausing at the conspicuous unconscious body lying in the middle of the floor. Hamuro was sure that at least one of them might hear her hammering heart and rapid breathing.

"I think you had a toolkit in your backpack." Jirou whispered, jamming a thumb towards the bright red bag on her back. Hamuro hadn't noticed it. "I took some stuff out to make room. I hope you don't mind."

"That's okay." Hamuro whispered back as Jirou took a hold of the grate, allowing Hamuro to dig around for her toolkit. "I'm glad you have it. I think mine got sucked up by the vacuum lady."

"Yeah, what was that?" Jirou asked, a hint of astonishment in her voice. "Since when could anyone use their quirks in here?"

Hamuro smiled at the sight of Uncle Nao's eyes as she pulled out her toolkit, grabbing a screwdriver to tighten a couple bolts into the grate to hold it in place. "I don't know. Can you still not use yours?"

"Nope. Already tried."

Hamuro frowned. "Weird..."

They both sat in silence, watching as guards ran around under them, carting off the vacuum lady and shouting orders about heading to different stations and locations. It wasn't long before they all disappeared, running off to who knows where.

"There's a lot of them..." Hamuro mumbled.

"Yeah..." Jirou quietly agreed.

"...We're gonna save everyone, though. Right?"

Jirou's eyes widened, a strangely haunted look in her eyes as she simply stared forward. For a moment, Hamuro wondered if she was seeing something that Hamuro couldn't.

But her question was suddenly cut off as they found themselves plunged into darkness.

"What?!" Jirou hissed, tensing harshly at the unexpected darkness. "What just-?!"

"Don't worry." Hamuro suddenly found herself saying, slowly maneuvering herself towards the direction she knew their meeting place was. "Everything's fine."

She found herself smiling, even if Jirou couldn't see it. "And like you said... He'll meet us there."

* * *

Bakugou almost felt like he was in one of Kami's first-person shooter games that he and Sero played so much, turning the next corner only to stare down a dozen or so guards all aiming directly at his face. He'd ducked into the next aisle of shelves just in time, cringing at the spray of bangs and pings that instantly erupted next to him.

He didn't know how many bullets he had, but he'd like to have as many as possible, in case he ever needed them later, because unlike some of those first-person shooter games, he didn't exactly have unlimited ammo magically materializing on or around him.

In other words, he couldn't just charge in guns literally blazing. He needed to be smart about this. Stingy. Frugal.

The rapid clicking of heels caught his attention, his eyes darting towards Gold Suit's back up knife spinning through the air towards him. He was quick to duck under it, some kind of noise of surprise escaping his throat as Gold Suit fearlessly descended on him, grabbing for the gun. Bakugou growled viciously as she tried to wrestle the rifle out of his hands, leaving them in a stalemate that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

There's a literal small army just around the corner. He doesn't have time to play keep-away with some bleached Karen in sparkly leather. Gold Suit cringed when his foot dug into her shin, shouting when his leg suddenly swung around and knocked her off balance. She was on her back and scrambling back up when he thought _f*ck it._

And he aimed.

_**BANG! **_

She actually screamed, spastically skittering away from the dent in the floor next to her head, while Bakugou turned and ran, already preparing for his next shot as the guards started spilling out from around the corner. In the spray of pinging sounds that followed, he whirled around and fired as he disappeared behind the next shelf.

The sound of a stone being thrown into a can rang out, accompanied by a startled shout. In the last second before he was out of sight, Bakugou watched as the guard he'd aimed at flailed, his shoulder jolting back painfully.

No blood, though.

_Is their armor bulletproof? _

It would make sense, considering that even if their guns are chained to their armor, someone could still shoot them point blank if they had the chance. Considering that a punch to the soft midsection was effective, he doubted that the thin material there could stop a bullet. The visors of their helmets might also be a weak spot, as well as their hands.

The hands were his best bet. Considering how legally and socially messy it was for heroes to have an actual body count, he didn't want to needlessly jeopardize his career before it even began. Aggressive or not, he had a perfect record for a reason.

Also, it's pretty hard to wield weapons without hands.

Unless you have a quirk that doesn't require them.

And didn't _that_ throw a wrench into things? If some of these f*cks can use their quirks, then he would need to be extra cautious. In fact, unless he was bleeding out in a corner somewhere, Tongue F*cker was still floating around.

_Great. _

The thought of it sent pain coursing up his leg, earning a strong wince. He didn't know how much damage had been done to his ankle, but he could definitely feel liquid soaking his sock.

If blood started pooling in his boot, then he'd really be in trouble. A trail of blood would lead these a*sclowns straight to him no matter where he went.

In other words, he didn't have time to stick around.

_You better have already gotten out of there, kid, 'cause time's up._

With all that hulking armor, most of the guards had no hope of catching up once he reached full sprint, but Gold Suit was _fast._ No matter where he went, she seemed to be somewhere nearby, lunging at him with her backup knife and murder in her eyes. So long as she was on him, the others would know where he was too, and obviously, he's not the only one with a gun.

With that in mind, dodging and weaving like a complete psycho trying to show off their sub-par parkour skills was entirely necessary, unless he wanted to get riddled with bullets after everything he's powered through up to this point. Of course, thanks to his domino stunt, a huge section of the room was no man's land, with no cover to protect him from getting mowed down the moment he made a break for the hall he'd come from.

Pounding footsteps sounded out ahead of him. With a grimace, Bakugou crawled through an empty bottom shelf, checking his surroundings for Gold Suit before peering through a higher opening, weapon raised, as three guards tore around the corner, two armed and one not.

He had one of those belts though.

Bakugou's brows furrowed in thought. Didn't Centipede Tongue have one? He honestly couldn't remember.

He didn't like how the three f*cks on the other side of the shelf were just standing around, the belt guy standing particularly still. The other two were watching him carefully, almost in apprehension, like he was suddenly gonna surge forward and eat one of them.

"Well?" one of them asked. "Anything?"

The belt guy grunted, his answer hesitant. "...He's definitely close... I can feel a fourth person breathing."

If anyone asked, Bakugou's breath did _not_ hitch.

"He's _very_ close." belt guy suddenly spoke urgently. "He can hear me."

"Which direction?"

"I told you, it doesn't work that way."

"_Ugh._ Useless."

Hmm. Well, isn't that interesting.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say that this guy was also using their quirk.

"_Wait._" Quirk Guy suddenly breathed, going rigid. Bakugou's eyes went wide, arms snapping up with the rifle in position just as the f*cker spun around and looked him _directly in the eye. _

_**BANG!**_

He barely missed the visor, a startled shout escaping Belt Guy's lips as his head reeled back from the impact, a deep dent in the side of the helmet. Both of the other f*ckers were up in arms in seconds, but not quick enough to act before Bakugou could take aim again.

_**BANG!**_

His target screamed, blood spurting from his right hand as his gun clattered to the floor. Bakugou dove back down, the remaining guard firing wildly in his general direction as he ducked his head down and ran. The resulting spray of shredded debris and mystery liquids had him choking on nothing, the smell alone enough to send him into a coughing fit, but even as his lungs burned, he didn't dare stop to catch his breath.

The other two guards were tailing him from the other side of the shelf, fighting to keep pace despite their clunky equipment. With a wince, Bakugou realized quickly that the quirk user could be a problem. Clearly, it was some type of sensory or tracking quirk, able to locate him in spite of all of the other stimuli everywhere else in the loading dock. If he decided to turn tail and make a break for it, he'd be a problem.

And the other guy with a gun will be a problem in fixing said problem.

Bakugou nodded to himself. He'll have to incapacitate them both, then.

He felt his stomach drop as he slid to a stop, pressing himself against the shelf to give himself an angle as the two guards sprinted past him. From here, for a split second, he could see a new weak spot in the armor. One that he should have already realized.

You can move if you pad up the area around your joints, meaning that under the elbows and behind the knees should be just as wide open as their midsections.

Belt guy skidded to a halt. "Wait, he stopped-!"

_**BANG!**_

He still wasn't used to the sound.

The second gunman cried out, leg practically collapsing on itself as the bullet dug into his left leg as causing him to fall to the ground in a heap. The shot looked to be just a little off, taking out a chunk of flesh from the back rather than piercing through the poor sod's kneecap. Honestly, probably for the better.

Bakugou took off running again, the sensing sh*thead letting out something akin to a whine as he spun around and followed close beside him. Clearly, he wasn't as much of a hard*ss as the rest of these guys, but frankly, he seemed to care a lot less than he probably should.

Whatever.

By the time the two crossed paths, turning their respective corners straight into each other, Bakugou had already switched his grip on the gun, spinning it around so that he was holding it by the barrel and swinging it upward like a baseball player going in for a grand slam. He inwardly cringed as the butt of the gun connected with the side of his neck with a loud smack, the belt guy seizing before he too bonelessly hit the floor with a painfully choked wheeze.

Flipping the gun around, Bakugou backed up, back behind the shelf, and looking over his shoulder, down the entirety of the massive loading dock. He couldn't tell how many guards there were, but there were definitely more. He also couldn't see Gold Suit from here, which made him tense, but there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment.

It would be any second now that someone would come running, alerted by the gunfire and ready to shoot him between the eyes on sight. Considering that they aimed to kill before they were actually given permission to kill, he doubted that they would be all too willing to take him alive.

Which meant he had seconds to come up with an escape before the firing squad converged on him.

He could see the hallway entrance from here, virtually unguarded and practically beckoning him to make the obvious choice. The problem was that it was all the way across the room, past the no man's land of fallen shelves where he would be spotted instantly. He could also see the back of the room, opposite to the giant metal doors, where a pair of double doors sat ominously, likely leading to another loading dock. At some point between when he'd last seen it and about a minute ago, it had been left ajar.

It wasn't a perfect escape, but it might have been the best he had.

That is, until there was a loud _**BZZZZZZT!**_ that had everyone jumping out of their skin.

Pressing against a particularly full shelf, Bakugou crouched down just as his vision was overtaken by complete darkness, blinding him to the point that he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. It took a stupidly long time for him to figure out what had happened.

_The lights went back out? _

In the midst of the confusion, Bakugou realized his position, took his chances, and ran for it, allowing the ongoing waves of noise to mask his movement and ducking through the mess of fallen shelves and scattered boxes before anyone else stopped tripping over themselves like bumbling idiots and went back into hunting mode. He didn't even bother trying to figure out what was going on. All he knew was that he'd been presented with an opportunity and he was going to take advantage of it.

In one fluid motion, he slid onto a shelf, wedged between a few steady boxes as listened to the guards run through the massive room in sure of him. For a moment, he didn't even bother breathing, waiting for someone to ambush him, someone to suddenly appear behind him with the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head.

But nothing happened.

He swallowed thickly.

"_YOU F*CKING USELESS B*TCH*SS WANNABE SH*THEADS!_" he heard Gold Suit shriek, so loud that even he was impressed. "_HOW THE _F*CK_ DO YOU LOSE A _F*CKING_ TEENAGER!? DO YOU EVEN KNOW UP FROM NORTH, YOU BRAINDEAD IMBELICLES!? I'LL SHOOT HIM MYSELF! GIVE ME A GUN!_"

He stayed frozen in place, staring into the darkness with hardened eyes and tense muscles. He was sure he'd be feeling sore from it tomorrow, he was so rigid. The running footsteps hadn't stopped, but the tidal waves of noise had calmed down to a peaceful surf, mutters piercing through the rumble as the guards spoke among one another. Suddenly, everyone was on edge, and for a moment, Bakugou wondered if they really thought he might jump out and just shoot someone in the face.

Good. Let them think that.

He was pretty sure a couple people actually passed him as he stared intently at the nearby wall, where he could see the entrance where he'd left the kid however long ago his whole wild ride had started. Or maybe it was the first door they'd come in? He supposed it didn't matter.

Either way, he'd somehow literally come full circle.

The hall was dark, red emergency lights leaving it with an ominous glow. If nothing else, he knew there was a supply closet in there somewhere, which may not be an escape route, but it was definitely somewhere to recollect himself before he found a real one.

Or he could make a break for the double doors, hoping that he could lose everyone in the next loading dock or storage room, or whatever was in there. The worst-case scenario of there not being any other entrance or exit in there was very real, and that meant he could get cornered. At the same time, the red light in the hall was like a beacon for anyone looking for his silhouette. With that in mind, he might as well paint a big red target on his back.

Either way, trying to get out was a risk, but so was staying. He didn't know why the lights turned on, nor did he know why they turned back off. If they came back on now, he'd be a sitting duck.

_Make your move, Katsuki. It's now or never. _

The sound of a door slamming shut startled him.

At first, he'd thought that it was Gold Suit or a guard throwing a hissy fit, but by the way everything went dead silent, something told him that they were just as confused as he was.

"That _BRAT!_" Gold Suit yelled, the clicks of her heels like a wailing siren. "Someone guard the d*mn storage unit! We'll corner him!"

_They think that was him?_

He didn't dare make a sound, listening in astonishment as guards ran to the double doors, all ready to hunt him down as quickly as possible, or kill him if they had to.

Meanwhile, there was a very nice door waiting for him just a little to his left.

Carefully, he slipped out of his hiding spot, precariously stepping towards the hall with light footsteps until he could see the darkened expanse that made up the rest of the hall. The second he knew he was in the clear, he stumbled through, spinning on his heel and making a beeline for the lone door sitting by the loading dock entrances. He was careful as he pried it open, peering inside before diving in and silently closing the door.

And for a moment, he just...stood there and stared at the door.

_What the h*ll just happened?_

Leaning against the door, he let himself slide down to the floor, suddenly fully aware of the stinging sensations all over his body. He cursed under his breath, eying the long, deep cut in his forearm stretching from his elbow to near his wrist. There wasn't enough blood to be worrisome, but it was still a lot. He winced as he moved to sit up straight, blinking in surprise at the red stain at the bottom of his pant leg. Pulling it up, he found flayed skin around his ankle, soaking his sock in blood and filling his now ruined boot. Thankfully, it wasn't enough to leave a trail.

He bit his lip at the memory, eyes furrowed deep in thought. Tongue f*cker caused this, he was sure.

He caused this with his _quirk. _

As he tore off the sleeves of his jacket for makeshift bandages, he thought back to the attack, trying to remember what the stupid f*ck looked like. From what he'd seen, he wasn't anything special. For all he knew, there was nothing about him that should give him any special abilities. So _how? _

If he remembered correctly, he didn't have any weapons, so he knew he could still use his quirk, and his buddies did, too. He didn't have his helmet on, but he doubted that the helmets had anything to do with it. It made no sense.

The dumb*ss that tore at him had weaponry, but Tongue F*cker didn't, but he could somehow use his quirk. Now that he thought about it, not every guard he saw had a gun on their person. It was always either a gun or-

He winced as he tugged the severed black sleeve around his ankle a bit too tight.

It was always either a gun or those weird belts.

Wrapping the other sleeve around his bleeding arm, Bakugou fully took in the realization. From what he'd seen so far, it made sense, considering that every guard that didn't have a gun had a belt strapped to their chest, with those stupid red bulbs in the center. Two might be a coincidence, but if he was right about this...

He would need to get a hold of one as soon as possible.

A strange scampering sound pulled at his attention, drawing him to the ceiling. Finishing his makeshift bandaging, Bakugou's eyes widened, staring up at the vent grate on the ceiling that he hadn't noticed. Pulling himself to his feet, he began searching through everything left in the giant supply closet. Flicking the light switch did nothing, so he was stuck searching for a screwdriver in the dark. Maybe if he was lucky, there might be a flashlight in there as well. At this point, with how lucky he'd been today, with the lights going out, a free weapon, an unexpected distraction, and a hidden vent opening, it was worth hoping.

Apparently, it was f*cking Christmas or some sh*t.

The skittering above him grew louder just as his hand wrapped around a very promising cylinder object, his eyes adjusted to the dark as he looked over what he realized in amazement was, in fact, a flashlight. Flicking it on, he blinked through the beam of light illuminating the room before he pointed it at a nearby metal table.

And what the f*ck, there's a screwdriver.

He might actually pass out.

The noise suddenly sounded like it was directly above him. Curiously, Bakugou aimed his flashlight up at the vent grate, brow raised as he stared. Not a second later, something sped across it, squeaking filling the still air. For a moment, he thought it was rats.

And then the thing stopped right on the grate and stared right back at him, its ears twitching.

Bakugou blinked. "...Orange's rodent?"

The hamster continued to stare at him, squeaking and nodding its head. Right, this thing could understand his...emotions or some sh*t. "Where's Orange?"

The hamster tilted its head at him, clearly not understanding who he was talking about. He huffed in annoyance. "Can you even understand what I'm saying? ...F*ck, okay. Uh... What the h*ll is her name? Orange hair, big glasses."

He curled his hands into circles and held them over his eyes, feeling like a complete dimwit while doing so. At least it did the trick, the hamster taking a moment to think before its eyes lit up, squeaking happily as it bounced up and down. That seemed like a good sign.

"So she's safe." he decided. Another nod. "Okay."

The hamster suddenly ran off, skittering around in the vent as Bakugou searched for a ladder. He was pretty confident that there would at least be a small one in a f*cking supply closet. Finding a little step ladder in the back of the room, he grabbed it and the screwdriver and went back to the vent, finding the hamster back with a chewed up electrical wire.

What.

He paused for a moment, staring up at the rodent and its prize as he tried to piece it together. Clearly, the hamster was showing it off, hopping excitedly as Bakugou went to fiddle with the broken light switch. He raised an eyebrow. "Did you f*ck with the lights?"

Another nod and a triumphant squeal, the little creature swaying back and forth ecstatically. Bakugou, frankly, didn't know how to respond to that.

He sneered dangerously. "I'm not sure how I feel about being saved by a_ rodent._"

The d*mn hamster _winked_ at him.

Any other situation and he would have _gladly_ launched the screwdriver at it.

* * *

"What in the _actual h*ll_ is going on!?"

Aizawa winced, Present Mic just a little too loud and a little too close to be talking at this volume. He could understand his frustration after their communication with the random civilian was cut off, but that didn't warrant him carelessly screaming everyone's ears off. He wasn't even sure how the civilian had done it, considering that the signal could be traced to one of the malls many security stations, specifically one on the ground floor. They'd sounded young, too.

_Kids these days. _

Stepping out of the police tent for some fresh air, Aizawa glared up at the bright, cloudless sky. It was around noon by now and the heroes had made exactly _zero_ progress on stopping the situation. On top of that, things were just getting weirder.

It had only been a few minutes since a couple guards marched out of the mall, the woman and her two children from before in between them. It almost looked like they were flanking her like bodyguards.

Neither of them were armed.

Aizawa had been worried that they were about to watch another public execution, that Schrodinger had decided to up his game and make whatever point he was making all the more clear. At this distance, where heroes were watching everything directly, where heroes were mere feet away, being forced to let a civilian die would have been the ultimate slap in the face.

But then they made her walk down the stairs, all the way to the police barricade, and marched right back inside without a word.

The next thing that Aizawa had been acutely concerned about was a bomb threat, but after a thorough inspection and no sudden explosions, both the woman and her children were cleared.

So, when Schrodinger had said he'd let the woman go, ...he'd meant it.

Aizawa didn't remember which hero it was that approached her, but they still smiled and gently reassured her as she sobbed, her children wailing in her arms. "Naoe, was it? It's okay. You're safe now. We just need to monitor you for a little bit longer to make sure you're completely okay, and then we'll escort you home, okay?"

"O- Okay." She'd forced out. "C- Can I... Can I borrow a phone? To call my fiance? I need her to know I'm okay."

The hero nodded. "Of course. I'll be sure to arrange that for you."

Aizawa hadn't seen or heard from her since, but there was no news of any new disasters as of yet, so he could only assume that everything was fine.

Which was...strange.

"You seem oddly melancholy."

With the most disgruntled expression he could muster, Aizawa glared at the new arrival. "Midnight."

With a wink, the somnambulist quirk user sidled up beside him, an oddly distant look hidden behind her eyes. "I heard about what happened straight from Nezu and hurried over. Word is spreading around U.A. fast."

Aizawa simply hummed in response, glaring out the deceptively quiet mall. Midnight's expression became somber. "You're probably worried about your kids."

"They're not my kids." Aizawa responded coolly, narrowing his eyes. When Midnight only smiled coyly, he shot her a glare. "I'm serious, Midnight. Stop insinuating these things."

Midnight rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

The two lapsed into silence, staring solemnly at the quiet, imposing building. Aizawa fought not to show any nervous ticks, suppressing the urges to tap his foot or drum his fingers. He could feel Midnight's eyes on him, watching every movement with calculated intensity, but he refused to meet her gaze, his own hardening as he continued to glare at the mall.

_They'd made no progress. _

"You know..." Midnight started, all hints of seductive teasing dropped and voice thick with muted tension and professionalism. "Someone's gonna have to make a move soon... We can't exactly leave things as they are."

Aizawa grimaced. Midnight sighed. "At this point, our only hope is to infiltrate quietly." she said grimly, side-eying him. "The problem is that no one will be able to use their quirks."

Fiddling with her mask Midnight absentmindedly stepped forward. "Quirks with a longer range like mine or Present Mic's can be a good diversion or backup, but ultimately, someone will have to actually go in."

Aizawa already knew where this was going.

"You do realize," she said slowly. "That you're the most qualified hero here to fight quirkless, right?"

_Of course he did. _

He stayed silent.

Midnight hummed. "I guess we still don't have enough information to do that yet." she said to no one in particular. "We don't exactly know what things are like inside with all the cameras down, do we? They thought this out well."

Aizawa nodded, still not looking at her. Midnight shrugged. "Still worried about your kids, I see."

"I'm not." he muttered, the silence stretching for a little too long before his eyes widened, noticing Midnight's smug face. "_And they're not my kids._" he quickly added.

"Mm-hmm."

"_ERASER!_" Present Mic's overpowering voice suddenly rang out, Aizawa and Midnight both wincing as the voice hero tore out of the police tent. "Eraser, you need to see this!"

"What's going on?" he questioned, following behind him with Midnight trailing them.

"You're not gonna believe it!" Mic exclaimed. "A bunch of cameras just suddenly came online! Tsukauchi already has almost the entirety of the far north of the building mapped out!"

Aizawa was sure his eyes were going to fall out of his head, they were so wide. He silently shot a glance at Midnight, a small smile starting to form on her face as the three heroes ducked into the tent. "How?" Aizawa asked in disbelief.

"We _don't know!_" Mic yelled, just as disbelieving. "They just started popping up after we lost contact with that civilian! Maybe she had something to do with it? Either way, the police are recording everything right now! This might be the breakthrough we've been waiting for!"

Aizawa honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing. Since when did things ever work out in their favor like this?

Inside the tent, officers were surrounding the screens, working feverishly to gather as much information as they could while the feeds were still coming in. From what he could see, some of the images were blinking on and off, as if someone on the other side was trying to take out the footage. One screen in particular was like a flickering light, an image of a bizarre-looking machine taking up most of it as several screenshots were taken and stored for further analysis. Further in the tent, Tsukauchi was watching several cameras, all within the same general area as enemy guards stormed through from camera to camera in an oddly manic fashion.

"Eraserhead," Tsukauchi spoke up, not even bothering to look at him. "You might wanna see this."

"What's going on?"

Mic looked just as confused, apparently not aware of this other new development that had caught the detective's attention. A couple officers were staring at the same screens, wide-eyed and jaws dropped as the muffled sound of gunshots rang through the speakers. Tsukauchi was quiet for a moment, his voice almost in awe. "We, uh... I think we found the other one."

Aizawa's brows furrowed. "The other what?"

Tsukauchi finally turned to look at him, expression blank. "Your other student."

What.

"_What?_"

Aizawa jogged up behind the other officers, pressing past Tsukauchi to get a better look at whatever they were seeing. From the looks of things, the security footage was all in the north loading docks, shelves knocked over and guards tripping over themselves in their haste. At some point, a woman in a gold suit appeared on screen, Tsukauchi's on brows shooting up at the sight of her, but that wasn't what caused Aizawa to feel like he was aging fifty years in real time.

No. That was thanks to the shock of ash blonde hair that flew across the screen just a second or two before.

_Dear _f*cking _lord. _

"Is that a rifle?" Midnight asked, almost painfully nonchalant about the situation. Meanwhile, Aizawa was pretty sure that Mic's sunglasses were actually about to fall off his face.

"What the _h*ll_ is he doing?" Aizawa practically growled, quirk threatening to activate on its own.

He should have expected this. He _really_ should have expected this.

"From what we've seen," Tsukauchi commented. "The guards are all aiming to kill. Either they know who he is or their higher-ups are getting nervous."

Aizawa felt like he might phase through reality at this point.

"That's not what I'm most concerned about, though."

"_It's not!?_" Mic shouted, everyone flinching away at the volume.

"No." Tsukauchi responded coolly, massaging his ears. "That woman..."

He frowned heavily, watching as she stopped in the middle of one of the feeds, yelling at the surrounding guards before darting off somewhere else.

"I've...seen her before." he spoke, almost in awe. "I'm sure of it."

Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

"Someone bring me all case files of missing person and villains at large that have gone cold! Female, white hair! The rest of you, look over all footage that you were able to gather! Analyze _everything!_ Leave no stones unturned!" Tsukauchi ordered, an officer immediately taking off as the detective heavily plopped into a chair, seemingly exhausted.

"I might have an..._inkling_ as to who she is... A hunch, if you will. I have to make sure" he muttered, mostly to himself. Aizawa felt a chill running down his spine. "If I'm right about this... If my eyes aren't playing tricks on me, then we need to stop these villains _now, _before things get out of hand. If they get away, then we may be dealing with the start of something far bigger than just a simple one-time heist."

* * *

**Who is Umineko? Are those belts and the sudden reappearance of quirks really related? Why did Schrodinger actually let that woman go? And what's his deal, anyway? ****All of this and more will be revealed, next time on SCHRODINGER'S HEIST! *Dragon Ball Z music plays***

**Okay, so when Hamuro runs into that guard on the way out of the security station, I always imagine that one scene from the first episode of Cells at Work where Red Blood Cell walks in on the Pneumococcus just chillin' and they're both like, "oh sh*t." (Plus, I totally hear Hanazawa Kana as the voice of Hamuro Mika, so that makes it even better)**

**Also, fun fact: Ham is a short-haired Syrian hamster with solid cream-colored fur and black eyes, in case you were wondering. You probably weren't, but now you know. ****He's also a little bit of a chonky boi.**

**Anyway, tune in next time for the aftermath of this first climactic encounter and its lingering effects...**


	9. Cline: The Revision

**Man, I don't know why, but this chapter was an absolute STRUGGLE to get through. There's just so much to set up before the next wave of action hits, and getting all of that established without dragging it out is hard! Well, I got there eventually.**

**I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Somehow, the clothing shop had been just as they'd left it.

Poking her head through the grate, Jirou couldn't help but sigh in relief. They'd have to fix the makeshift curtains that Bakugou had set up to hide them, but from the looks of it, there were no other life forms in sight. Slipping through the open vent and barely catching Hamuro as she'd carelessly flung herself out after her, the two girls quickly got to work, simply fixing the cloth covering the broken window before running to the back of the store and ducking down behind the counter.

It almost felt like they were wasting time, carefully clearing out any glass or other sharp objects scattered around before making themselves comfortable, Jirou ripping off Hamuro's backpack and proudly setting it between them with a heavy thunk.

"Okay," she breathed, suddenly feeling as if she'd just run a marathon. "I think I got all the things on your list, though I grabbed a few other things as well."

"That's probably a good thing." Hamuro responded. "I might have forgotten something, anyway. Like my toolkit! They definitely would have seen where we'd gone if you didn't bring that!"

The enthusiasm felt forced. Jirou sighed as Hamuro's face dropped a little. "Still worried about Bakugou?"

Hamuro frowned. "Aren't you?"

"Not yet." she shrugged. "It hasn't been that long. He'll catch up with us."

The orange-haired girl nodded slowly, pulling off her glasses to wipe at her eyes. Jirou realized abruptly that she'd never seen them before, a rustic shade of a brownish-red color that shone brightly under the dim store lights. They were big, wide like Uraraka's and almost square-ish in shape like Ashido's. Hidden away by the thick lens of her glasses, the wavering light behind them almost left Jirou blinded.

"You have pretty eyes." she blurted, startling the young girl. "They're very expressive."

Hamuro blushed, her large eyes looking off to the side as she curled into herself. "Uh, thanks. My dad used to tell me that they look exactly like my mom's. My hair does, too, but hers was longer."

Jirou didn't miss the past-tense.

"What color are they?"

Jirou blinked, looking back at Hamuro's gleaming gaze. "My eyes, what color are they? I have really bad eyesight, and my glasses are so thick, so I can't see 'em in a mirror."

Jirou tilted her head, almost losing her breath from the expectant stare that felt as if it was aimed directly at her tired, beating heart. "They're, uh, they're a brownish-red. Very rustic. They're nice."

There was a heart-stopping moment where Hamuro's expression fell, a slump in her shoulders that barely lasted a second before the smile was back. Jirou's face hardened. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Oh, no! Not at all!" she said quickly, wincing at the volume before bowing her head, her voice quieter. "I was just hoping for a more specific shade. Everyone either says brownish-red or reddish-brown and, well, that could be a lot of things, you know?"

"Oh." Jirou slumped, pursing her lips. "Well, sorry. I don't really know specific shades by name."

"It's okay! Really!" she laughed. "I've always felt embarrassed pushing it with Uncle Nao or Auntie. Maybe if I did, they'd look it up and we could actually figure it out that way! I've only been curious about it recently."

"Let's do that once we get out of here."

Her face lit up, even as she slipped her glasses back on. "Really?"

"Yeah, or we could ask one of my classmates. I think a couple of them might know." Jirou smiled softly. "Now that I think about it, I have a lot of friends to introduce you to. I think they'd love to meet you."

Hamuro smiled back, both radiating with joy and shimmering with an aura of melancholy. "You miss them."

"Yeah." Jirou admitted. "They're probably worried."

"...I can't wait to meet them."

"Yeah."

The two sat quietly for what felt like eons, a somber atmosphere falling over their shoulders. For the first time since this whole fiasco started, Jirou didn't feel as if she was being watched, or that danger was waiting around the corner, or that the faintest sound would lead the villains right to them. For the first time, time seemed to slow down for her and give her a chance to breathe.

The air was so clean, it hurt, leaving her lungs screaming from the searing burn of ice-cold air. She found herself feeling heavier than lead, shuffling to lean against the back of the counter and slump against it like a puppet with cut strings. The constant stream of adrenaline had left her aching, sore and tired with nowhere comfortable to lie down and rest her eyes.

She faintly wondered if this was how Aizawa-sensei always felt.

Hamuro was watching her expectantly, hands lightly clutching the nearly forgotten backpack as she tilted her head, a silent question. Jirou sighed. "Yeah, Okay. I'm ready. Open it up and explain everything to me-"

A loud thud cut her off.

They both jumped, Jirou's heart leaping into her throat as they found themselves frozen, wide-eyed as they glanced at each other in apprehension. There was a solid second where Jirou couldn't breathe, an icy dread shooting up her spine and leaving her rigid.

_How did they find them?_

"Oww, _f*ck._"

She almost passed out.

Gasping loudly, Hamuro leaped up to feet, peering over the counter as Jirou pulled herself up, still catching her breath after it had so violently left her and regaining feeling in her limbs after the relief had numbed them. Had she not been, she would have laughed at the somewhat flabbergasted look on Bakugou's face before he shook his head, reorienting himself after an apparently botched landing from the vent opening.

"What the h*ll was that?" Jirou huffed. "Warn us next time. You scared the sh*t out of us."

Hamuro, not nearly as frazzled, squealed excitedly, scrambling out from behind the counter. "Bakugou!" she cried happily. "You're okay!"

The glare he shot back at her could have set her on fire, though her sudden apprehension and nervous smile were quickly forgotten as a ball of cream-colored fur dropped from the ceiling, landing unceremoniously in Bakugou's hair and earning a surprised grunt. Hamuro's beaming face could have outshone the sun. "Ham!"

While Bakugou looked about ready to rip the poor thing's head off with his teeth, Ham simply looked back up at her, twitching his nose and ears with shining black eyes. He easily hopped into Hamuro's outstretched hands with a content squeak, Hamuro happily doting over her pet while Bakugou roughly rubbed at his scalp with a slew of curses steadily spilling from his lips.

It was when he didn't immediately make a move to get up that Jirou found herself subconsciously looking him over, noting the odd tears in his clothing. "What happened to your jacket?" she questioned, stepping out from behind the counter herself. "...Also, where in the _h*ll_ did you get a gun?"

His searing glare was immediately redirected at her, but that didn't distract Jirou from the two torn, stained sleeves wrapped around his arm and ankle.

Hamuro froze. "You're bleeding." she gasped, completely skipping over the gun part.

"It's nothing." Bakugou growled, finally pulling himself to his feet. "They're just scratches. It's nothing I can't handle."

"Scratches don't-" she recoiled violently when the deadliest glare he could muster was shot at her. "...Bleed...that much."

Bakugou's glare didn't waver, Hamuro slowly shrinking away from his withering gaze. "It's. _Fine._" he spat.

Though Hamuro didn't look entirely convinced, she wisely backed off, instead skittering back behind the counter where they'd left her backpack. Jirou, however, stayed where she was, watching in silence as Bakugou pulled off his tattered boot, his sock completely soaked in red as he poured a small trickle of blood out of the ruined shoe.

"So," Jirou started carefully. "I know we've both seen worse than this, but...a puddle of blood's a puddle of blood."

Bakugou sneered at her. "Yeah? And what the h*ll do you expect me to do about it? Slap a band-aid on there and call it a night?"

Jirou pursed her lips, shrugging. "I mean, we're in a clothing store. You could at least switch the bloody cloths out for something clean. I'm sure the owners would understand, considering the circumstances, and it wouldn't look as bad, so it might get Hamuro off your back."

Frankly, she didn't like leaving his injuries to fester either, but fussing over him would only make him angrier and they really didn't have any way of cleaning his wounds. Traveling to the nearest sink really wasn't worth the risk, and besides, he wasn't limping, nor was he obviously hiding a limp, so their only real problem was blood trails.

Something easily remedied since they were surrounded by potential bandaging.

His sneer didn't waver, but he didn't immediately tell her off either, and honestly, that's the best response she could have hoped for. With a scoff, he rolled his eyes and stepped away, marching over to a clothing rack and aggressively flipping through different shirts, much to Jirou's relief.

Leaning against the front of the counter, Jirou let herself fiddle with her numb ear jacks, her fingers twisting around them in a familiar nervous tick that almost made her feel just the slightest bit more relaxed. After everything that's happened thus far, such a small act of normalcy was doing wonders for her festering nerves. Gripping the jack itself, Jirou paused, a crease in her brow as she forced herself to let go of her ears and shove her hands into her pockets. "Hey, Bakugou?"

He only grunted in response, pulling out a fittingly thick dark red sweater and viciously tearing it apart with brute strength that almost seemed superhuman. The guy could probably rip a phone book in half. "Back where you guys were, or I guess, where _you_ were specifically," she said slowly. "Did you run into anyone with...you know, using their quirk, somehow?"

It still bothered her, how that one guard woman was able to activate her quirk when Jirou herself still couldn't even feel her ear jacks. Resisting the urge to start twirling them again, Jirou crossed her arms tightly, her eyes looking off to the side.

"Was it a guard?"

Jirou blinked, turning back as Bakugou approached the counter, two torn sleeves in hand. Suddenly, he seemed very interested in what she had to say. "Stop gawking, Earlobes, and answer the d*mn question."

Jirou blinked at him as he slid down against the counter, setting the gun aside and roughly pulling at the cloth around his ankle as she too sat down next to him. "Er- Yeah. It was a guard, which means that something similar happened to you, right?"

"How else do you think this sh*t happened?!" he snapped, gesturing wildly at his torn discarded boot and the sliced up skin around his ankle. "With everyone being _supposedly_ quirkless, the last thing I expected was to get snagged by some Metal Gear Lovecraft abomination crawling out of someone's mouth!"

That...left Jirou with a lot more questions than answers.

Bakugou growled, throwing the ruined black cloth away and wrapping the new red sleeve around the honestly gruesome-looking wound. "I ran into two of them." he said simply. "There was a second guy with some sort of sensory quirk, or it might have been tracking. Either way, it was bullsh*t."

Jirou nodded along. "Is that where you got the gun?"

"Nah, stole it from another guy."

"Ah."

"That's not even important." Bakugou said dismissively, tightening the sleeve around his ankle. "Did the guard with a quirk that attacked you guys have that bulb belt junk that some of these f*ckers are wearing?"

Jirou had to think back, considering that she hadn't been paying attention to that at the time. The main thing she'd noticed was that the guard's helmet was missing, but she doubted that that held any significance. She was pretty sure she saw the plated lining of those belts running over her shoulders, though. "Yeah, I think she was, actually."

Bakugou's frown deepened. "Two is a coincidence, three is a pattern." he muttered, loosely wrapping the other sleeve around a long, nasty cut on his forearm.

"What do you mean?"

"You tell me." he responded heatedly. "Together, we've seen three people able to use their quirks while nobody else could. What did they all have in common, huh?"

While he held one end of the sleeve between his teeth to tie and tighten it around his arm, Jirou sat in silence, mulling over their new revelation. _Three is a pattern. _

It was still a theory, something that they couldn't fully prove unless they got a hold of one, but if they were right, and she really didn't have any other explanations...

"We need to get those belts."

"Yeah, no sh*t." Bakugou growled, both sleeves securely tied around his injured limbs and thankfully barely even damp. Fully leaning against the counter in one of the most relaxed positions that Jirou had ever seen him in, Bakugou lifted his head up towards the ceiling. "Hey Tangerine Dream, you figure out anything groundbreaking?"

There was a clatter behind them, and Jirou suddenly realized that she'd almost forgotten about Hamuro as a mop of orange hair peered over the counter above them. "Actually, I did!"

"Yeah?" Jirou asked, pulling herself up to her knees to get a better look at the young girl, practically clambering over the table to see them. "And what's that?"

"I figured out how to get our quirks back!"

"_Wha-!?_" Jirou startled when Bakugou suddenly shot up to his feet, a wild look in his eyes. "Brat, why didn't you tell us that before!?"

"'Cause you were talking about other important stuff! I didn't want to interrupt!"

There was a solid three seconds where Jirou was sure that Bakugou was about to lunge at Hamuro and strangle her, but he refrained, pinching his nose and taking an impossibly deep breath. Jirou took the opportunity to step in. "How do we get our quirks back, Hamuro?"

Hamuro straightened up, a smile on her face. "I'll need to look at the mall schematics to find it, but when I was checking the cameras in the security station, I found a weird machine, and it was surrounded by those weird belts, but they were all broken! I think that the machine is what's generating the big force field around the mall!"

Bakugou stared at her incredulously. "You're sure that's what it is?"

"I'm pretty sure, yeah. And even if it's not, it's there's and it's well-hidden, so it has to be important." she said. "So if we can destroy it, it'll be a step in the right direction."

She pointed down behind the counter. "And this stuff is gonna help us do that."

"You have a plan?" Jirou asked.

"I didn't have an exact plan when I asked for all this, but I definitely think it'll help us." She ducked down under the desk, motioning for them to follow. "Come on! I'll show you!"

The look that Bakugou was giving Jirou was skeptical, if she was being generous, but honestly, Jirou didn't have any better ideas, and if Bakugou had any, he would have said so by now. With a tired huff, Bakugou trudged over behind the counter, unceremoniously plopping himself down as Jirou crawled over behind him. "Okay, kid. We've got nothing better to do, so show us your gadgets."

Hamuro nodded resolutely, unzipping the bright red backpack and haphazardly dumping its contents onto the carpeted floor. Even with her glasses back on, Jirou could practically see the moment her eyes zeroed in on the old cracked flip phone, her jaw dropping as she scrambled to pick it up. "Of course... Of course! This is an old flip phone! It's SO much harder to trace these than it is a smartphone! This is easily the safest to communicate with the outside! Oh, Jirou, this is great! Why didn't I think of this?! Wait, does it work?" She was suddenly flipping it open and fiddling with it. "Most of them don't work. Actually, I didn't know any of them did."

Bakugou's brows furrowed. "Couldn't the call still be intercepted?"

Hamuro's face fell at that, a thoughtful look in her eyes as she looked the device over. Jirou looked in between the two as silence fell over the group. Bakugou's frown deepened. "That's what I thought. They might have a hard time finding us, but they could definitely still hear us."

"So..." Hamuro concluded, shoulders low. "We couldn't coordinate anything safely."

"Exactly."

"That doesn't mean we can't contact anyone at all." said Jirou. "We could at least let someone know that we're okay."

"We couldn't call Aizawa, though."

Jirou narrowed her eyes. "Why not?"

"The f*ck do you mean,_ 'why not'?_" he snarled. "Do you _want_ to make the situation worse than it already is? If they find out that anyone in this mall has contact with the heroes outside, who knows how those f*ckers will react."

_Mr. Shibuya's body limply fell to the ground, blood draining from the bullet hole between his eyes. Above the cries of shock and terror of the crowd were two screams of utter agony, as if they were the ones ruthlessly shot down._

Jirou sucked in a sharp breath.

_**Someone's dead. **_

"I..." she found herself at a loss for words, searching for some semblance of sounds that could be mistaken for human speech.

_The Shibuya's, the woman and her children. Mr. Naofumi. _

"Y-... You're right." she relented. "You're right, I..."

_ Focus. _

_ Breathe. _

Jirou swallowed harshly, forcing herself to control her breathing and reign in her pounding heartbeat. "But if that's the case, then who _do_ we call? I mean..." The thought hit her so suddenly that she barely had time to question why she didn't think of it instantly. "We should call one of our classmates."

Bakugou's expression twisted into something akin to thoughtful, his gaze falling to the device still held in Hamuro's hands. Jirou herself found herself mulling over her own statement. She already had most, if not all of her classmates on speed dial, so she hadn't been pressed to memorize any of their numbers. She knew Aizawa's, but he'd forced them all to memorize it the day they all moved into the dorms. Sitting down to think about it, she might know Kaminari's and Yaoyorozu's, but the more she thinks about it, the more unsure she is. She's pretty sure some numbers were mixed up between the two in her head, or was it also part of Sero's?

"D*mmit." she muttered. "I think I might know Yaomomo's number, and Kaminari's, but there's a good chance that I have all the numbers mixed up." she admitted, rubbing at her slick, sweaty hands. "What about you? Do you remember anyone's cell phone number for sure?"

It was a long shot, in all honesty. Considering that the guy didn't bother remembering people's _names, _she somehow doubted that he'd stopped to remember something like their phone numbers. For a moment, Bakugou just stared at her, as if her asking that question was the stupidest thing ever, but as Jirou held eye contact, there was a strange twitch in his brow, his eyes shifting to the side and his lips twisting in a subdued snarl.

He didn't respond right away. "...I know one."

The hesitance alone was enough to make Jirou's eyebrows shoot up, but the implications were much more oddly startling. A low growl escaped his throat. "I don't know _why_ I know it, but I do."

"That doesn't matter." she responded quickly, ignoring the way Hamuro was looking between them in confusion. "You want me to do the talking? You can just dial the number and I'll handle the rest."

"_No._" he snarled, his voice harsh enough to make both girls flinch. "I'll do it. The d*mn nerd and I can talk civilly when we need to."

Ah, so she was really was spot on in her assumption.

There was still something in his eyes, though. A layer of skepticism that had Jirou second-guessing every decision they'd made up to this point. Grinding his teeth, he shook his head, roughly gesturing at the nearly forgotten pile of gadgets. "Look, whatever. We'll talk more about this when we go to make the f*cking call. Just explain all this sh*t to us, kid."

Hamuro startled. "Wha-. Me?"

The look Bakugou gave her was such a perfect replica of Aizawa's 'tired-dad' look that Jirou mourned the fact that she couldn't photograph it. Hamuro was quiet for a moment before she jolted back into action. "Uh, right. Okay, um... Yeah, headphones. Headphones, first."

With that, she grabbed the three headphones, handing them each one. "These are for communication, like gaming headphones. They're kinda like a mix between that and walkie-talkies." Messing with the third pair, her expression hardened in determination. "I can probably scramble the signals to make it harder to intercept, though the sound quality will go down."

"Better safe than sorry." Jirou added with a shrug, Hamuro nodding fervently in agreement before slipping the headphones around her neck.

She paused when she noticed the night vision goggles, picking them up and looking them over. "I didn't know Uncle Nao still had these. Good eye!"

"Thanks." Jirou chuckled. "That backroom is a train wreck, by the way. A hoarder's wonderland."

Hamuro giggled, handing the goggles to Jirou. "Keep 'em. You guys would probably use them more than me."

Hamuro grinned, looking at the 'eyes' with childish glee. She gasped loudly, hand surging forward and snatching up the strange black goggles that had been in the box with them. "Oh man, I forgot about this! I'm glad you brought it, 'cause I definitely need it!"

Jirou sighed in relief. "Glad I thought to grab it. What are these things, anyway?"

"The eyes?" Hamuro asked, picking them up with care. "They're cameras!"

"Are they?" Jirou snorted, staring at the odd little eyeball-esque devices. "How do they work?"

"You see these holes?" Hamuro pointed out the pores on the bottom of one of the spheres. "They make them hover, though they can't go very high, and when I turn 'em on, more pores open up around the sides, so I can move them with the controller. It's like a video game in real life!"

She was suddenly waving the black goggles in Jirou's face. "This lets me see what the cameras are seeing, like a security camera setup with VR goggles. I have to switch between cameras, but I can see everything that they see."

"While also staying out of our way." Bakugou concluded. Hamuro nodded fervently.

"I'm not a fighter." she agreed, her expression severe. "I don't wanna be deadweight for you guys. I already almost got myself and Bakugou capture back in the docks because of my own clumsiness. I don't want that to happen again."

_"I wanted to be a hero once, remember? And heroes are brave." _

_ "What about now?" _

_ "I couldn't." _

"I'm no hero. Not like you guys." she concluded, the slightest hint of sadness in her voice smothered by determination. "But... But that doesn't mean I can't help!"

She reached for the USB, 'Tsar Bomba' proudly labeled on it. "And this," she said confidently, holding it up. "Is how I'm gonna do it."

"Yeah, that thing." said Jirou. "I found it in a safe full of other USBs. What is it?"

Hamuro smiled. "Remember when we first met at Hamuro Electroniko?" she asked. "I mentioned that Uncle Nao likes programming and viruses. All of those flash drives are copies of the viruses and worms he's made over the years. He's very proud of them, after all."

She tossed it in the air, expertly grabbing it out of the air as it fell and dramatically holding it between her fingers. "And This? This here is the last copy of the only purposely malicious malware he ever made."

Jirou herself wasn't sure what that entailed, though Bakugou's eyebrows had shot up high above his hairline. Jirou leaned forward. "What does it do?"

"And how is it gonna do us any good?" Bakugou cut in. "You're assuming a lot thinking that this 'machine' will have a USB port."

Hamuro nodded. "I know. It would be best if it has a port, but there were definitely other computers nearby, and with this bad boy, that's all we need. It's a worm, you see, so it can spread to other devices on its own, without being activated by an outside source, and even if it can't spread to the machine through the computer system, it'll still cause enough damage to break it."

"Yeah?" Jirou asked. "And how would it do that?"

"By blowing it up!"

Jirou's gaped, glancing over at Bakugou's own wide eyes, before taking in Hamuro's beaming face. "It's the only malicious malware he made," she reiterated. "Just for the sake of saying that he could, but it turned out to be so powerful that all devices that it infected overheated super duper fast and ended up either catching fire and blowing up! Even if we can't infect the target device, we can still create a bomb and place it nearby!"

"Why the f*ck..." Bakugou looked as if he was about to have an aneurysm. "Why didn't he destroy it?! You have something that powerful just _sitting around!?_"

"He keeps it safe!"

"That doesn't-!"

"The important thing here," Jirou loudly cut in. "Is that we basically have the beginnings of a counterattack. We can worry about legality later. Right now, we need to make a phone call. Then we can plan this thing out and kick some villain a*s, alright?"

Bakugou didn't look convinced, staring at the little flash drive incredulously before a long, suffering groan escaped his lips and he pulled himself up, violently snatching up the phone as he did so. Hamuro, meanwhile, completely ignored him, setting the flash drive aside to fiddle with the 'eyes' and safely connect them to her goggles. The cracked phone screen lit up with no issue, Bakugou growling dangerously as he glared daggers at it, almost as if he was willing it to detonate in his hand.

"What do we tell them?" Jirou asked carefully.

"All we can really tell them is that we're alive and we're active. _Maybe_ which side of the building we're on."

"We could tell him to give the phone to Aizawa-sensei."

"If the call is intercepted, they'll recognize his voice."

Jirou bit her lip. "...We could tell them to relay the message."

Bakugou stared at the phone screen for a long time after that, his expression weirdly blank. It was sending chills up and down Jirou's spine as she waited, hoping beyond hope that Midoriya didn't lose his phone, or that it wasn't out of battery, or that this whole crazy scheme wasn't for nothing in the end.

At this point, anything could happen, and she'd never felt so out of control in her life. She can't imagine what all of this is like for Bakugou.

With a low, uncharacteristically defeated sigh, he started punching in the numbers. "I feel like this is a bad idea."

* * *

It was hard to ignore the commotion around him as he marched through the dark hall, passing empty conference rooms and broken indoor windows with his shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. An uncharacteristic scowl on his face, everyone was scrambling out of his way, rightfully nervous about taking any chances and standing in his path.

Because frankly, Schrodinger was a bit miffed.

A hand running through his sleeked back, wavy raven locks, he practically burst into the mall's main conference room, situated on the unused, practically hidden fourth floor of the building. Discovering its existence had been like finding an abandoned mineshaft filled to the brim with gold, a perfect place to set up as his base of operations, with guards patrolling the rooftop in case some wayward hero somehow got the bright idea to try and break through the ceiling for a surprise attack. The fact that he was able to gather so many followers really was a blessing, mostly former yakuza members looking for someone to lead them after Overhaul's group was all but wiped out.

A shame, in all honesty.

With a heavy sigh, the world on his shoulders, Schrodinger slumped into an empty chair, massaging his temples. His first performance with that particular hostage group and its unexpectedly quick and abrupt ending had genuinely managed to throw him off, leaving him with a slightly soured mood. He'd meant to take out a few more civilians at random, really drive the heroes' helplessness home, but then he'd seen that woman's ID and...

_"Not all acts are set in stone."_ A gentle tone, a reassuring hand, guidance, _understanding. "Accidents happen live. The trick is if you can take those accidents and turn them into opportunities." _

Schrodinger sighed. _Easier said than done. _

It was almost embarrassing to admit that improvisation wasn't a strong suit of his, considering all the years he'd spent studying theatre. H*ll, he'd been the vice president of his high school drama club, despite...certain issues. Perhaps if things hadn't gone the way they did, if people had cared, if heroes were _competent_ and _did their jobs- _

"Schrodinger, sir?" a voice called. Schrodinger put on his best smile as one of his guards poked their head, a young woman with bright blue hair and her helmet held under her arm. "Is... Is everything alright? Some of the others were getting a little nervous after you stormed through."

"Right." he sighed again. "Right, right, right, that's- I must apologize. I shouldn't be worrying about personal issues right now."

The blue-haired guard nodded. "Okay, well, Umineko said she'd be coming to speak with you shortly. She also seemed rather agitated... Uh, w-would you like anything, sir? Water? Tea? Something to eat?"

"Water sounds nice right about now." he admitted with a nod, his smile barely slipping from his face as he leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. With a nod of her own, the guard disappeared for a moment, returning a few moments later with a small tray holding a pitcher of water and a stack of cups. Schrodinger eyed her carefully as she set the tray on the table, stopping to carefully unfasten the chain holding her weapons in place.

Schrodinger's eyes softened as he stood. "Please, sit down. We'll share."

"Oh, sir, that won't be nece-"

"I insist," The girl watched him as he poured their drinks, tentatively taking a seat. "Though I must ask you to leave once Umineko arrives. I need to speak with her privately."

"Y- Yes, of course."

As it turns out, he really did need a drink. He almost melted as he gulped down the cool liquid, a pleased sigh escaping him. The young woman also seemed to have needed a break, her tense shoulders steadily relaxing. Schrodinger couldn't help but chastise himself for getting caught up in his own angst, even though his own spirits were still somewhat low. There were far more important things to worry about at the moment, and so many people, people who had suffered, were here to support his efforts, just as Shirako had always done.

His dear, dear Shirako.

"Sir," the young woman spoke up. "If I may ask, since the site has been secured and the hostages are all rounded up, as far as we can tell, what is our next step? Especially since..."

"Since our security has been breached." he finished, bristling at the reminder. His foul mood was partially due to that breach, several cameras suddenly coming online much earlier than he'd anticipated. Most of them were meant to show up later, hopefully throwing the heroes off in the long run.

Certain others, however, weren't supposed to go up _at all. _

"That is a fair question," he admitted slowly. "But I assure you that things will still be running just as planned. I'll just need to make a few adjustments, mostly to the time frame of our operation."

"So things will be moving faster, then?"

"Exactly. I'm afraid some very valuable information was broadcast in that breach and the efforts in taking the cameras back down are still ongoing." He himself had gone in to help do so, both surprised and impressed by the complexity of the codes being used. Hopefully, they wouldn't be able to fully map out where _it_ was located too quickly. "But hey, no one ever said this was going to be easy, did they? This is all just a minor setback."

Schrodinger grabbed the pitcher, pouring himself another drink as his companion stared at her reflection in her own cup. "I suppose...

"Honestly, I'm surprised that nobody's pieced it all together yet. We're not exactly being subtle, people have seen my and Umineko's faces before, I'm sure, and Eraserhead's down there. The man's always been brilliant, a perfectly logical mind. That's one of the things I've always admired about him."

The girl watched him curiously. "...What is there to figure out?"

Setting the pitcher down, Schrodinger couldn't help but chuckle, hands tensing as he forced himself to swallow the aggravation and frustration that had been creeping up his spine since he'd seen that cursed word on that woman's ID. "How do I explain? ...People always say that the best villains are the ones that you can relate to and understand, and yet, I've always had a strange affinity for those who have no clear motivation. There's just something about that unknown variable, that unpredictability that I find so..._exciting_."

He'd always envied those who could improvise on stage like it was second nature.

"Simply put," he continued, raising his cup. "Some men just want to watch the world burn...and I just can't help but think about how _appealing_ that sounds. Cheers."

Schrodinger downed his drink in one gulp as the door flew open, Umineko storming in like a hurricane. The inferno in her eyes that screamed for blood had the poor guard excusing herself quickly, bowing and rushing out the door just as Umineko kicked her abandoned chair so violently that it clattered against the opposite wall. He watched her silently, allowing his smile to fall and setting his empty cup back on the tray as the freckled woman continued to seethe. "Unbelievable! Unbe-f*cking-lievable!"

"I take it you've also run into some complications?"

"Where did we find these people!? At the bottom of a bargain bucket at an American dollar store?!" she screeched. "You would think they could do their d*mn jobs! They're adults, aren't they?!"

"Hmm."

"They shoot like Stormtroopers! Couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, and they're as blind as bats! No, more so, because bats aren't actually blind!"

"Hmm."

Umineko paused, looking at him strangely as he allowed himself to sink into his chair, no longer worried about prying eyes searching for any reasons to doubt or panic. His tense shoulders hurt from the weight pressing down on them, a breath he didn't even realize he was holding escaping his lips.

"Did something go wrong?" Umineko questioned, her voice low as Schrodinger leaned forward, his head sitting comfortably in his folded arms against the table. "I haven't heard any news, other than that stupid breach, so I'd assumed things were going smoothly, otherwise."

"Shirako..."

Her eyes widened, a heavy layer of concern washing over them as she rushed forward, her delicate hands gripping his sore shoulders tightly. This close, he could count the freckles on her face, see the glint of light against her sharp, fang-like teeth and her vibrant yellow eyes. Her touch alone put him at ease, and he couldn't help but sigh for the umpteenth time as her brows creased. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He nodded numbly, finally allowing everything to wash over him, to fully take in that civilian woman's fear, her terror and hatred and distrust as she'd gazed upon him. His next breath was shaky. "My performance," he started. "Did not go for as long as planned."

Shirako blinked in confusion. "Why?"

His hands felt hot, gaze sad as he stared off at nothing. "She was only the second person I pulled from the crowd, a young mother."

"So?" Shirako questioned.

Schrodinger bit his lip. "She... I was checking her ID, getting to know her, as you do for an audience act, and... Do you... Do you know what it said?"

He finally allowed himself to meet her eyes, watching in real time as she connected the dots, her face going from confused to shock in mere seconds. "Oh... Oh, don't tell me."

"Yes..." he nodded sadly. "Just like _him... __**Quirkless.**_"

She gasped lightly. "Oh, Masao..."

Schrodinger cringed, averting his eyes. "I honestly can't believe I left as I did. I don't know what came over me. I just-... How many more are there like her, like _him,_ who are being forced to suffer more than they already have? How could I, in good conscience, do that to them? I just-!"

"Shh, hey," Shirako cooed, carding her fingers through his hair with one hand and pulling his own hand away from his throbbing scalp with the other. He hadn't even realized it was there. "It's okay. I know things are going faster than planned, but it's nothing we can't handle."

Schrodinger pursed his lips. "I just worry."

"I know, but... We have to look at the bigger picture, right? That's what you always tell me."

He deflated at that, fighting an internal battle with his fraying morals as his partner silently comforted him, whispering soft nothings as she gently massaged his shoulders. Honestly, he didn't know what he'd do without her.

"Okay, okay." he relented, softly pushing her away and taking a moment to breathe. "...Enough with that. We're on a shortened schedule as it is."

"Right." Shirako sighed, stepping away.

"By the way," he suddenly spoke up, almost startling her with how suddenly his voice had perked up. "You were angry before. If I get to vent, then you should, too."

The white-haired woman's face slowly morphed into that of disdain, a growl rumbling in her throat as she looked away. "Right... I really should have told you about that first."

"Oh?"

"Come to the base setup. You can see for yourself."

With an understanding nod, Schrodinger wordlessly followed as Umineko led him out of the abandoned conference room, trailing her as the surrounding guards scrambled back. If Schrodinger didn't know any better, he'd say they were trying to eavesdrop.

The "base setup" as they simply referred to it, was barely a hop, skip, and a jump away, hidden deep in the empty fourth floor. The room itself was clearly built with little purpose other than supporting weight and possibly storage, lined with pillars of various sizes. One in particular, situated near the center of the room, was massive, likely holding up the thick, heavy roof sitting above their heads. As their base of operations, the room was packed with computers and monitors, light from the screens illuminating the otherwise dim room. It really was a wonder that no one ever used this floor, giving them ample room to work with while everyone else was none the wiser.

It was like someone had handed them the perfect location on a shiny silver platter.

"You there." Umineko ordered, pointing at a random guard by the monitors. "Pull up security footage from north storage docks, around the time of the breach."

"Yes, ma'am."

Schrodinger watched in fascination as the images on screen shifted, hues of green and blue washing over the dimly-lit room and glowing brightly against Umineko's sharp, narrowed eyes. There was a low rumble in the back of her throat, almost like a purr, as her lips twisted into a sneer. "As you're about to see," she seethed, predatory rage locking on to a lone figure on the camera feed. "Not every hostage has been gathered."

Schrodinger watched with interest as a boy, a _teenager,_ made fools out of his guards, traversing the docks like a children's playground set and dancing around Umineko's vicious attacks. Umineko, looking back, bit her lip, hiding her reddened face in her hands and turning away.

"Hmm... Spry young man, isn't he?" Schrodinger commented, schooling a blank expression to hide his frustration, for Umineko's sake, if nothing else.

A loose hostage, especially one this defensive and slippery, could lead to disastrous consequences in the long term. For one, if he's managed to avoid detection and capture for this long, then he's clearly got some kind of system for moving around without being noticed. The other possibility is that he'd stayed low until now, but he couldn't be so sure. He was also smart enough to not try to reach an exit and run for it, considering that he'd easily be mowed down by gunfire from the roof and upper floors before he reached the perimeter of the suppressor field.

Schrodinger's eyebrow twitched. Was he in any way responsible for the security breach?

"WAIT!" Umineko suddenly shrieked, pointing wildly at another screen. "What's the timestamp on this one!?"

With a raised eyebrow, Schrodinger peered over the guard's shoulder, the other brow shooting up as the same teenager boy tore through the rows of shelves, a young girl trailing behind him. Umineko roared in anger. "THERE WAS ANOTHER ONE!? WHERE WAS _SHE?!_"

Schrodinger allowed some of his annoyance to show, his fingers twitching eagerly. His pistol holster suddenly felt just a tad bit heavier.

Two. _Two_ children, escaping his guards and running amuck during _his_ heist. Looking at the timestamps, the girl was nowhere in sight around the time of the breach. It was a bit of a leap in logic, but there was definitely a security station near that dock and if the boy was anything to go by, then clearly the youth of this day and age were not to be underestimated.

And on top of that, didn't the guards at the hostage site by the plaza mention another runaway? He'd have to check the timeline and ask for a description, but putting that into consideration, there was a possibility that he was dealing with at least three wayward civilians. More, if the universe of conspiring against him.

Schrodinger groaned, tuning out Umineko's infuriated demon screams to instead glared intently at the blue screens, watching with reluctantly enraptured attention as the boy surfed along the falling shelves, cascading over each other like a row of dominoes. He looked to be average in height, just barely a couple centimeters shorter than Umineko, if he was seeing things right. Despite his baggy clothing, his exposed forearms revealed a well-toned, muscular build, and even for such an average size, the kid was _fast_. He had to be, in order to evade Umineko like that. She'd always had superhuman speed and agility, even with her...condition.

So, to actually be able to challenge her like this... It was actually astonishing, especially since a lot of his movements were somewhat wide, throwing more force into it despite the extra milliseconds it cost. The boy clearly practiced something, perhaps a sport or martial art that called for this kind of physical ability? Or what kind of quirk might require this kind of physicality?

Questions, questions.

"I feel like I've seen this guy before."

Schrodinger blinked, his attention snapping to the guard manning the recordings. Umineko's vicious rant cut off almost instantly, both villains with confused looks as the guard vaguely motioned at the footage. "Like, doesn't he look familiar to you? I swear I've seen him somewhere before."

With a curious hum, Schrodinger rubbed his chin and reexamined the footage, watching the teen's movements with a calculating eye. The shock of his pale blonde hair was hard to miss, and though he couldn't tell the color of his eyes from here, there was a distinct sharpness to them that could possibly put Umineko's predatory glares to shame. His face was always twisted in a sneer or a glare, like a cornered animal with no flight instincts. A wild, caged beast.

_Caged. _

Wait.

Umineko, apparently on the exact same train of thought as he was, broke the silence first. "Isn't that the U.A. psycho kid?"

Schrodinger's eyes widened, completely ignorant of the guard's shocked expletives and Umineko's stunned silence. On the screen, the kid managed to get a hold of one of Umineko's knives and jam it into a guard's plated centipede tongue. He couldn't be bothered to remember the guard's name right now. He barely even noticed the idiot that didn't fasten the chain holding his gun to his armor correctly.

All he could see was a wild, untamed beast thrashing wildly in his restraints on a podium.

All he could hear was the talk amongst villains about a monster that the leader of the up and coming League of Villains was losing his sh*t over.

All he could think about was the absolute fiasco Kamino Ward was for hero society as a whole and how one child had been at the very center of it.

This was _that kid? _

"Well... F*ck." Umineko muttered. "No wonder he was such a pain in the a*s. He's in the top heroics class in the country."

"Hey, this could actually be a problem!" the guard shouted. "You saw Kamino Ward, right?! This kid solo'd six villains at once! He's tough sh*t!"

"Oh, calm down! He's one boy!" Umineko shot back. "This is nothing to panic over!"

"I- It's not just that, though. We're gonna have U.A. up our a*ses..." the guard's voice shook. "You saw what the heroes were willing to do at Kamino! Who knows what we'll be facing! What if they call in Endeavor!? Thanks to the security breach, they'll map out the suppressor's location in no time, and if they infiltrate, that's it! We're _screwed!_"

Schrodinger watched the footage in silence, ignoring his two companions' yelling and arguing as the boy used his new weapon to shoot at a couple guards and clock another one in the throat. When the room went dark and shrouded the footage in inky blackness, he found more on where it had left off on a night vision camera, where the kid bolted across the room with quick, apparently quiet steps before disappearing entirely. He really was a slippery one, wasn't he?

_"You saw what the heroes were willing to do at Kamino!" _

Hmm... What _were_ they willing to do?

Schrodinger found himself smiling.

"What's with that face?" Umineko questioned, her tone exasperated as the guard clenched their fists tightly.

"Oh, nothing. It's just..." He grinned at them. "This argument seems so silly. Instead of panicking over this, why don't we just use this to our advantage?"

Umineko's eyes brightened at this, tilting her head as a smirk graced her lips. "Oh? And how would we do that?"

Schrodinger smiled blindingly, the energy he'd been missing not too long ago roaring back with a life that almost left him giddy. "I have a few ideas." he said happily, twirling around with a skip back in his step. "We'll have to slightly revise my original plan, but I think that this could work out even better! Oh, yes! Yes, this could actually be perfectly in our favor!"

_ "Not all acts are set in stone."_

Umineko seemed to light up at his brightening mood, the guard's tenseness relaxing in the face of his confidence. "Should I gather everyone who's up here?" the guard asked. "You know, so everyone's on the same page of...whatever you have in mind?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes! Thank you very much!" Schrodinger spun back around, eyes sparkling and tone dripping with eager, childish excitement. "Do so right away! There is much to discuss and no time to delay!"

_"The trick is if you can take those accidents and turn them into opportunities."_

Schrodinger grinned. "We're moving on," he announced, dramatically pointing towards the sky. "_To act two!_"

* * *

**Why do these chapters get so loooooooooong. There's a bunch of stuff I didn't add here that I'll be putting into the next chapter, and HOPEFULLY, that will also be when things start to pick up again. For now, I hope this exposition dump didn't bore you guys.**

**I can promise that next chapter, Aizawa will discover who Umineko is, and the phone call will happen, so you all have that to look forward to, at least! Until next time!**


	10. Hypothesis: The Roll Call

For the record, Aizawa did _not_ flinch when a file full of papers suddenly slapped against the metal table.

"I take it this is that woman's 'case file', then." Aizawa drawled, gingerly picking it up.

"According to some sources, she's referring to herself as Umineko, and yes, this is everything that we could find on her," Tsukauchi nodded. "Though to be completely honest, some of it _is_ speculation, so we should take it with a grain of salt."

Aizawa nodded, biting the inside of his cheek and doing his best to not snap at Present Mic, who was looking over his shoulder so close that they could be fused together. With a sigh, side-eying his old friend with a nasty stink-eye, the underground hero opened the file.

The pictures were fuzzy, barely enough to recognize the spiky white hair, but the bold article title was clear as day. '**UNKNOWN VILLAIN ASSASSINATES FOREIGN POLITICIAN**' screamed back at him, the photographer doing their best to snap the photo despite all of the movement. From the looks of it, the villain was moving too fast and too much to get a proper look, so her aforementioned hair was the only chance anyone had of recognizing her.

"You remember this case, don't you?" Tsukauchi asked. "It made headlines internationally."

Oh, Aizawa remembered this mess. It had been a U.S. foreign affairs representative, there to discuss quirk laws in relation to visiting island territories in the Pacific. With the appearances of new territories via man-made islands, the United States government was somewhat nervous about national security, since villain activity in Japan has been on the rise for a few years now, so discussions on it had seemed like a decent idea for ensuring that friendly ties were maintained and dealing with the problem immediately rather than letting paranoia fester.

Of course, nobody had expected a group of assassins to attack them on their way to the meeting, especially since the visit wasn't even public news in Japan. Even with how tight security was, the villains had still somehow managed to take the representative's life, and tensions had skyrocketed as a result. Japanese foreign affairs _still_ suffered from this incident even to this day.

As for the villains responsible, most of them had been apprehended after the fact. There were whispers of one escaped criminal, but the trail had gone cold before any proper search could be done and the case was officially announced as solved and thus dropped.

"So what you're saying," Aizawa said slowly. "Is that this woman is the alleged escaped villain."

"Exactly."

Aizawa frowned. "How can we be sure? The photo is such poor quality that you can't make out her face."

"We'll get to that." Tsukauchi said ominously as Aizawa flipped through pages of other articles, detailing other mysterious criminal activity and unsolved cases.

"From what we've gathered, many cases that went unsolved could possibly be traced back to her." Tsukauchi stated, his tone cold. "If our suspicions are correct, then Umineko could be responsible for over a dozen unsolved murders and assassinations, all of which were of high-profile individuals, mostly open supporters of the heroics industry."

"Well, that's a little telling." Midnight mumbled, a heavy frown on her face. "Villains with grudges against heroes seem to be trending these days."

"Yes, I've noticed, but anyway, it does look like all of her victims were either politicians and other rich benefactors that supported current hero society or actual pro heroes under the top fifty in popularity polls."

"Because top fifty would pull in a lot of attention." Aizawa mused.

"Here's the thing, though." Tsukauchi drummed his fingers against the metal table, his expression contemplative. "We've also possibly connected her with at least five different villain organizations in the past, two confirmed, who became infamous for a single heist or major attack each, one that resulted in either the death, disappearance, or critical condition of at least one major hero. What's strange, though, is what all of these organizations have in common."

"Which is?"

"That after _that_ mission that each of them became infamous for, every single one of them disbanded. The reasons were always different. The group was snitched on and arrested, most of the members were found dead due to poisonous gases or other underhanded means, and one even just disappeared off the face of the Earth, with only one body ever found."

"I think I've heard about some of this." Aizawa mumbled. "None of it took place in the Tokyo prefecture, though. In fact, all of this happened in completely opposite sides of Japan."

Present Mic hummed. "It's not impossible. Some villains move around a lot."

"Yes," Tsukauchi nodded. "And all of this took place in the span of about four years, between six and two years ago, precisely. We have little to no information to go off of on her activities in the last two years, and I have my suspicions as to why, but we'll get to that."

Aizawa didn't like the sound of that. Tsukauchi simply shook his head, sighing as he leaned back. "Either way, all we can do is work with what we have, which are the case files on her murders and assassinations."

"And how do we know that these murders were committed by the same person?" Present Mic asked curiously.

"I was wondering about that myself." said Midnight. Aizawa had almost forgotten she was there. "You did say that some of it was speculation. Were the methods similar? Was there some kind of calling card?"

"That's where things get tricky." Tsukauchi sighed. "All causes of death where she's a suspect were either stab wounds, gunshot wounds, or smothering or strangulation. It's foolish to call that a pattern, because all of those are common murder methods."

Aizawa crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised high above his hairline. "So what's the connection?"

Tsukauchi's face twisted at that, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at his drumming fingers. With a long, tired sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, almost as if psyching himself out for whatever he was about to say. Present Mic, who'd finally backed off instead of lying over Aizawa's shoulder, and Midnight both leaned forward in anticipation, and Aizawa found himself becoming antsy as the silence pressed on. The longer they sat around waiting for answers, the longer his students were left to fend for themselves without their quirks against an apparent criminal mastermind.

F*cking h*ll, Bakugou literally took this woman on while _quirkless,_ and who even knew what Jirou was up to at this point.

_D*mn nightmare class. _

Tsukauchi finally looked up at the three pro heroes around him, eyes narrow and face hardened. "Cat hair."

What.

All three heroes simultaneously drew a blank. "_...What?_"

The three of them stared, Aizawa waiting for the punchline, but Tsukauchi's face remained stoic. Almost tired even, as if he'd been expecting this kind of reaction.

Midnight recovered first. "...Please, elaborate."

Tsukauchi sighed. "At every single aforementioned murder scene, the one commonality between all of them was that there were traces of cat hair at each sight, and according to DNA testing, it was all from the same organism."

"Okay..." Present Mic said skeptically. "So, what does that have to do with Umineko?"

Tsukauchi nodded towards the file still sitting in front of Aizawa. "In the back of that file, you will find a high school profile of who we believe to be Umineko. Between DNA samples and what information we do have on her, we've all but confirmed that they are one and the same."

Aizawa nodded along, flipping through the file in search of said profile. "Her civilian name is Nemura Shirako, a native of the Osaka prefecture. She attended Anoato high school and disappeared during her third year of study, along with three other students. The school has since been closed down."

"That still doesn't explain her connection to cat hair." Present Mic pointed out, somewhat confused.

Tsukauchi nodded as Aizawa silently stared at the profile image, having almost missed Tsukauchi's entire introduction to this girl. The same piercing yellow eyes that he'd made out in the security feed stared back at him, far sharper in the photo than they'd looked in the recording. The same wild white hair also greeted him, even if it was just a little bit longer, as well as the same milky skin tone. She was clearly younger, with more baby fat and far more skinny, as if she hadn't been eating well.

She looked like the same person, in a way. And yet...

"As you can see," Tsukauchi spoke up as Aizawa offered the profile to his companions. "The connection is...unexpected."

This girl had the face of a cat.

Instead of freckled, she had whiskers decorating her furry cheeks. Instead of uncontrollable tufts of hair, cat ears stood proudly on the top of her head. Instead of round, dark pupils, they were almond-shaped slits, like the eyes of a predator about to attack its prey. Instead of a pointy human nose like in the footage, it was a pink button nose. Instead of her already strangely sharp canine teeth, she had massive fangs, so big that they just barely stuck out of her mouth.

This girl was part cat.

But from the looks of it, that woman was not.

Midnight whistled loudly, eyebrows shooting up as she gazed at the photo, while Mic lifted his sunglasses to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"Wait, so..." Present Mic started. "Is it a transformation quirk? Because there's not even a hint of her being a cat person in the footage."

"But then why is her quirk activated in her school photo?" Aizawa pointed out.

"Because," Tsukauchi cut in. "It's not listed as a transformation quirk. It's a _mutant_ quirk, and there are no records of her quirk ever being registered as anything else."

"But that doesn't make any sense." Midnight thought aloud. "There are mutant quirk users being held hostage in that building right now, being rendered quirkless, but those mutated parts of their bodies are _still there._ They just can't be used."

Jirou was proof of this. In the closeup images they'd managed to get of her, her jacks were still there, hanging limply from her earlobes. She just couldn't use them.

So how...

"This," Tsukauchi sighed. "Is where things get a little strange."

All three pro heroes frowned deeply at that, but Tsukauchi simply plowed on. "Two years ago, around the time where any traces of Umineko we might have had disappeared, it is believed that she'd somehow had some kind of conflict with the yakuza."

Aizawa's brows shot up. Midnight and Mic gave either other unsure glances. "Around that time, there was some kind of falling out between the yakuza and a few of their separate associates from around the country, though we have no way of knowing who it was or why. However, and this is entirely us theorizing, there is something during that time that the yakuza had that should be raising some red flags.

Aizawa fought not to gasp.

_Eri. _

"The production of an imperfect quirk-erasing serum was in complete secrecy at this point, so if someone, say, a mutant quirk user, were to lose their quirk for no explainable reason, then they could easily slip under the radar and go back into hiding, because their quirks and appearance wouldn't match up."

With that, Tsukauchi reached over and took the file, thumbing through until he pulled out an inconspicuous-looking medical file. "This right here is the only document we have that we are one hundred percent certain pertains to the exact same woman that is in that building right now, even though her name is not listed. It is medical documentation from two years ago, regarding several dozen bullet wounds from what was chalked up to a villain attack, a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The bullets themselves had already been removed by an unknown person. The patient herself was comatose due to an unknown illness for weeks, then vanished without a trace a day after she woke up, before the investigation into her identity could be completed. As it turns out, we'd been looking in the wrong places the whole time."

He pointed to the listed quirk, and then gestured in the same general direction of the mall, where this villain was currently freely walking its halls. Aizawa connected the dots even as Tsukauchi spoke. "That woman is quirkless."

Aizawa fought to make sense of what he was being told, to let all of this sink in, and yet the warring logistics and motives hardly made sense to his own logical mind. The fact that this person managed to stay under the radar for so long was already throwing him for a loop, and from the looks of his companions, they were having just as hard a time comprehending this.

Aizawa glanced behind him, towards the opening of the tent, suddenly feeling uneasy. Something about this seemed off, a piece of the puzzle that they were missing. How _did_ Umineko stay hidden for so long? What exactly happened to those villain organizations? What happened at Anoato high school when she disappeared, and what around those other missing students? What happened during those two years between her hospital stay and now?

The proto quirk-erasing bullets only had a temporary effect, if he remembered the case correctly. How could she still be quirkless, even when shot multiple times?

How is she even alive if she was 'shot multiple times'?

But most importantly...

Aizawa growled.

How does _Schrodinger_ play into all of this?

* * *

"AHAHAHAHA! Look at this! Look, look, look! Of course, Class 1-A would be at the center of yet another disaster! But oh? What's this? All of 1-B hasn't had any problems! We've escaped perfectly healthy and are out of the heroes' way with no trouble at all! But you haven't?! Even though you're supposed to be better than us!? That must be so embarrassing, not having everyone accounted for! _AHAHA-!_"

Midoriya barely even registered Monoma's shrieking until Kendou had knocked him out, his body limply crumpled at his feet. The greenette hardly offered a glance, far too busy scribbling strategies down in his notebook.

"Sorry about that." Kendou sighed, sounding sheepish. "I'll try to keep a better eye on him. I'm sure you're all worried about your friends."

"It's fine." Uraraka reassured her. "We're used to it by now. Besides, Jirou and Bakugou are gonna be a-okay! Right, Deku?"

"Huh?" Midoriya blinked, his head shooting up so fast that he gave himself whiplash. Looking between their expectant faces, it took him a moment to actually register what the conversation topic was. "...Oh! Oh yeah, they'll be fine." he smiled.

Kendou seemed unsure, but chose not to say anything, simply waving goodbye as she dragged Monoma back to where their class was congregated. As soon as she was out of sight, Midoriya and Uraraka shot each other a quick thumbs up and hustled back to where many of their own classmates were waiting.

The self-proclaimed 'Bakusquad' was in their own circle, whispering harshly to each other as if deep in discussion and ignoring pretty much everything else around them. Ashido seemed to be leading the conversation, the boys each waiting for a turn to talk as she pointed them out and gave them the floor. Off to the side, Todoroki and Asui were blatantly watching them, Asui in fond amusement and Todoroki as if he wanted to butt into the conversation himself.

As it turned out, finding and speaking with their other classmates had taken much longer than he'd expected, with all the chaos and staying under the radar and whatnot. Where he'd hoped it would take about ten minutes or so, it almost felt like hours before they'd managed to find everyone. Midoriya had considered simply texting or calling people, but he had no way of knowing who was looking or listening, and if Aizawa caught wind of anything, it was over. It was also because of this reason that he didn't approach anyone from 1-B for help, as he didn't know who he could trust to not snitch on them.

Unfortunately, not very many of them had been particularly interested in working independently from the other heroes and bringing Aizawa's wrath down on themselves, should things go wrong. On one hand, Midoriya really did feel like he had a point when he brought up the fact that many of them had their licenses, and thus, there was no getting in trouble with the law by getting involved.

On the other hand, Aizawa was scary.

At least they'd all promised not to tattle on them.

"So..." Uraraka started. "About everything that Hagakure told us..."

Midoriya's expression hardened. Hagakure, the absolute legend, had decided to do some eavesdropping earlier and had been kind enough to share what she'd learned with Midoriya, which ended up being so much information that it had made his head spin. First and foremost, there had been whispers of Kacchan and Jirou being unharmed and active. Between their respective sightings, apparently, the majority of the north side was confirmed to have no groups of hostages, leaving them to all be in the east and west wings and in the central plaza, and they had discovered a foreign, suspicious machine in that area that could very likely be what was creating the force field blocking everyone's quirks.

It might not seem like much when explained up front, but to Midoriya, it was _so much. _

Because with this, he had an end goal. It wasn't just aimless plotting anymore. Now, he had a starting point and a goal, and with that, he had a _plan. _

He really owed Hagakure for that one.

"Yeah..." Midoriya nodded. "She also mentioned overhearing some stuff about the police possibly approaching Kouda about trying to do reconnaissance with his quirk, and that she's gonna keep her ears open for anything he finds out, if they go through with it. Personally, I think they will, but that's neither here nor there. Honestly, all of this means everything. I'll have to find a way to thank her later. She really didn't have to."

Uraraka smiled. "Well, that's what heroes do, right?"

Midoriya could only smile back.

Upon his arrival, all eyes were suddenly on Midoriya, a wave of anxiety slamming into him at the sudden unwavering attention, but he simply swallowed and steeled himself for war. The more discreet they were, the better, especially considering that the whole class could get into trouble for just knowing about this operation and not stopping it. All eight of them huddled together, grouping up in the middle of the chaos of heroes and emergency personnel struggling to maintain order and peace, and from there, the planning phase began.

"The entire mall is under heavy surveillance with no obvious weak points." said Midoriya. "Our first course of action should be creating an opening."

"Question." Todoroki suddenly spoke up, pointlessly raising his hand. "How would the force field affect Hagakure's quirk? Is it possible that she could get enough to slip through their defense?"

"I'm not sure we want to risk it. Besides, she's doing far more for us than I could ever ask." Midoriya thought aloud. "On the off chance that she loses her invisibility, she would likely be shot down before any of us could save her."

Uraraka shuffled awkwardly. "It'd be kinda neat to see what she looks like."

"I'd rather see her not riddled with bullets." Asui mused bluntly, earning several winces.

"What about people who have long-range quirks?" Sero asked. "Or better yet, I've been wondering this for a while now. If Todoroki's ice and fire can pass through the force field, could Kouda possibly talk to animals inside the field as long as he's not?"

"That's a good point!" Kirishima gasped, several others nodding in agreement.

"It is. Apparently, the police and heroes have already thought about that as well." Midoriya muttered. "It's totally possible that Kouda's quirk could work like a long-range quirk, which means that we could use animals like birds and rats to relay information, but how does the force field affect animals? Can Kouda still talk to animals that are inside the force field or do they all need to be outside of it? And what about the intelligence of the animal, or the size-?"

"Deku, you're mumbling."

"O- Oh! Sorry..."

"If we're talking about long-range quirks," Todoroki said. "Mine is our best bet of getting us in close if necessary."

"Same with me, sorta." said Kaminari. "Electricity can travel _far, _dude."

"I could act as a shield, if we stay outside the barrier thingy." Kirishima butt in.

"And you know, I'm kind of an eyesore." Ashido thought aloud. "Do you think maybe I could be a distraction or something?"

"That would also be another application for my quirk." Todoroki added.

Midoriya grinned. "You all have good points. I think I might finally have a plan, though."

"Yeah?" Kirishima smiled. "Well, let's hear it!"

Midoriya nodded resolutely. "From what we've been told, the source of the force field is a machine hidden somewhere in the north wing of the mall." he explained. "If we can take that out, then we'll be giving the heroes a huge advantage, and as a bonus, we also won't be directly interfering with the heroes' operation."

"And how will we 'take the machine out'?" Sero asked.

"Our best shot?" Midoriya said, expression severe. "Blowing a fuse."

Kaminari sucked in a deep breath, fingering curling into tight fists. Midoriya, nodding to Kaminari, turned to Todoroki and barreled on. "Todoroki, in order to help Kaminari's electricity travel, you're going to make a narrow path of ice that travels as close to the building as possible. Our best bet is if it touches the building, but just get it as close as you can. Once you do, melt the ice. Uraraka will then float you and herself to keep you off the ground and away from the electric current."

Midoriya turned to Kaminari. "Kaminari will use the water as a vague pathway for as much electricity as he can send before the ground completely soaks it up. It might also help if we can get one of your disks on the wall as well, which Sero could do if you have one on you right now."

"I have one." Kaminari admitted. "I got permission to carry one because of all the villain attacks."

Midoriya nodded. "In order to do that without gaining too much attention, we will need a distraction. Asui, you'll throw me as high in the air as you can so that I can send an airstrike towards the roof. Kirishima, your job will be to protect Asui from the ground."

He then turned to Ashido. "Ashido, what I need you to do is to relay information. Whatever Hagakure finds out from Kouda or other people she overhears, she will be sharing information through you. You're fast, so you can travel between the two of us the easiest, okay?"

"Yeah!"

"And after that, once the north wing's electricity is down, it'll also fall on you to let the heroes know about the opening while the rest of us get out of the way. Best-case scenario, if a fight breaks out, we'll be storming the building with the heroes. Everyone got all that?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Ashido saluted with a wink. Everyone else nodded, fires of determination and sureness burning in their eyes like wildfires.

Because at this point, nobody had done anything. There was taking your time, and then there was _not acting, _and in Midoriya's life, he'd seen far too many situations where him standing by and not helping would have ended disastrously.

If he'd stood by like people told him to...

If he'd stood by and let the heroes handle Kamino...

If he'd stood by and let Muscular attack Kouta...

If he'd stood by and let Iida go after Stain alone...

If he'd stood by and let Kacchan struggle against the sludge villain...

_"Meddling when you don't need to is the essence of a true hero."_

Someone needed to _act. _

And if no one else would do it, then he would gladly step up.

Because that's what heroes do.

His mind racing, Midoriya barely noticed Yaoyorozu loitering off to the side, a nervous look on her face as she bit her lip and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Every once in awhile, she'd step forward, only to shy away and stare off at something that Midoriya couldn't see. For her sake, Midoriya didn't call her out. She'd done and risked so much for them in the past that he couldn't bring himself to force her into this kind of situation. He'd rather she didn't get into more trouble on their behalf if he could help it.

His expression softened, a low, sad sigh escaping him. He really owed his friends, didn't he? So many amazing heroes, all standing proudly beside him through all of their endeavors. When did his life become so amazing, despite the hardships?

Incredible.

Considering how high-strung he'd actually felt about this whole situation, the 2xxx All Might cartoon theme reboot remix suddenly blaring in his pocket had him jumping several feet in the air.

Panicked, Midoriya fumbled for his phone, his nerves shot as he desperately prodded at the screen and nearly cursed as his phone slipped right through his unsteady fingers. Uraraka was barely able to cushion its fall with her foot, the phone harmlessly bouncing off of her shoe and onto the ground as Midoriya quickly snatched it back up, a thanks barely escaping his lips as he stopped to stare at the screen, trying to ignore his slowly fraying nerves.

He didn't know the number. It was a local phone, but nothing that he could recognize. A part of him wondered if it was a wrong number or a telemarketer, or some other kind of scam, but another, much louder part of him was screaming, howling at him to not take any chances. Leave no stone unturned.

What if it was important?

"Who's calling you?" Uraraka asked curiously. "Is it your mom?"

"Or All Might?" Todoroki added on, wiggling his eyebrows with a knowing look in his eyes. Midoriya chose not to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"I don't know this number." he said instead, pursing his lips. Sharing unsure glances with his classmates, Midoriya let that silly old theme song loop a couple of times before he decided that alleviating his curiosity wouldn't hurt and answered the call, pressing his phone to his ear. "Hello? Midoriya Izuku speaking."

"_Deku, it's me._"

"_KA-!?_" Deku physically choked, some of his classmates jumping at his cut off exclamation and subsequent coughing fit. Uraraka, who'd been standing close enough to hear the crackle of his voice through the cellphone, went wide-eyed, mouth agape as noises comparable to attempts at human speech escaped her mouth. Midoriya cleared his throat, fighting to regain his composure as he turned away from the group and curled into himself, as if to hide away from the rest of the world. "Kacchan, wha-?! How d-?!"

In the moment, Midoriya barely noticed the commotion around him, his classmates on their feet with wide eyes and overflowing with questions. He barely even noticed whatever was coming out of his own mouth, completely numb to everything around him by the all-encompassing relief of hearing his childhood friend's voice. But how was this even possible? What happened to them? Where were they right now? Was Jirou okay?

"_Deku!_" Kacchan snapped, pulling Midoriya out of what he realized was another mumbling tirade. Midoriya tried his best to ignore the wave of noise behind him, his classmates clamoring behind him while Uraraka shushed at them. "_Stop f*cking mumbling! Now's not the time for your nerdy a*s bullsh*t!_"

"I- Right." he stuttered. "Sorry, I just- I'm so glad you're okay and it's really reassuring to hear your voice and-"

"_Alright! I get it! Stop it with the creepy sh*t!_"

"How am I cre-?" Midoriya cut himself off, taking a deep breath as he reoriented himself. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Where are you right now? Where in the building?"

"Ask if Jirou's with him!" Kaminari suddenly demanded somewhere behind him.

Kacchan was quiet, a heavy silence falling over them that had Midoriya's skin crawling. Kacchan growled under his breath. "_Listen, Deku. It's a long story, but I'm talking to you on a flip phone right now. The villains can't trace me, but they can intercept this call, which means there's a very real chance that they could be listening to us right now._"

Midoriya grimaced harshly. Kacchan sounded grim. "_I'd rather not rat myself out._"

Midoriya nodded to himself. It was more than a fair argument. He almost felt embarrassed for even asking. "Right... Um, you said us. Is Jirou with you?"

"_Earlobes? Yeah, she's here. Why?_"

"It's just good to know you're both okay." Midoriya reasoned, sending a quick thumbs up to Kaminari. He'd never seen the electric blonde look so relieved as he did then, practically deflating as he lowered himself to the ground.

"_Whatever. Look, how much do you guys know from the security cams going up?_"

Midoriya blinked. "That was you?"

"_Answer the question!_"

Midoriya bit the inside of his cheek, fingers twitching and nerves churning in his stomach. Considering the circumstances, he was suddenly second-guessing every single thing that he thought to say. What was safe information? What could he tell that wouldn't compromise the heroes on the off chance that someone really was listening?

The greenette swallowed. Ultimately, he supposed that the villains were already aware of the leak if they were watching so closely. Reciting what Hagakure told him from the screen should be relatively harmless.

"Um, not much." he started, picking his words carefully. "We only got visual on the north wing of the building, but it's a start." he frowned. "There was...also something about a machine?"

"_You saw that thing, too, huh?_" said Kacchan. "_I don't know what it is _exactly,_ but there's a good chance that it's what's generating the quirk barrier sh*t."_

Midoriya nodded, as if Kacchan could see him. "That's what I was thinking."

Good. They were on the same page, then.

Of course, there was also the fact that all of the cameras that were activated were in the north wing, and this machine was visible on one of those cameras, so it was a no-brainer that it was located somewhere in the north wing. It also showcased the fact that Kacchan was _also_ in the north wing somewhere.

Midoriya held his tongue, though, even if his conclusions seemed obvious. The less informed that they sounded to any villains that might be listening, and the less they gave away, the less careful they would feel they needed to be.

"_What about the belts?_"

Midoriya frowned. "Belts?"

Kacchan went quiet again, an eery, ominous silence falling over them, and Midoriya suddenly felt goosebumps running over his skin. Pressing his phone between his shoulder and ear, Midoriya fumbled for his notebook, only able to offer a small smile of gratitude as Asui's tongue lifted it up for him to grasp. His pencil hit paper before he could properly organize his own thoughts.

_**Belts (red bulbs) – **__**important?**_

"_...Keep an eye on those belts._" Kacchan finally spoke, his words slow and careful. "_I'm pretty sure I saw a guy with some kind of sensory quirk, you know,_ use their quirk. _It could have been my imagination, but..._"

He was talking funny.

There were pauses, an unnatural hesitation and unsureness in his tone that felt more artificial than a plastic fruit salad, and Midoriya immediately knew without a shadow of a doubt that this wasn't just guesswork. This wasn't someone throwing out an idea for the sake of throwing out an idea.

_The less informed that they sounded to any villains that might be listening, the less careful they would feel they needed to be._

_**Belts (red bulbs) – **__**important?**__** – Quirk enablers!**_

"I'll let someone know." Midoriya responded vaguely. Directly referring to the heroes, or worse, mentioning Aizawa or anyone else by name might not be the smartest idea in this situation.

In the background, through the crackling of his cell phone, Midoriya could make out a couple other voices talking amongst each other. It was muffled, full of hissing and overlapping sounds, but if he was hearing things right, it almost sounded as if there were more than just two people in wherever Kacchan was right now.

Midoriya nearly cursed out loud.

_Were there civilians with him? _

"Kacchan, how many people are with you right now?"

Hushed murmurs wafted through the air around him, unsure and nervous looks exchanged by his classmates now surrounding him. The line went silent again, leaving Midoriya with a roaring wave of nerves that threatened to drown him. As much as he wanted to ensure their safety, as much as he wanted to just rush in there and drag Kacchan and Jirou out himself, he knew that they could take care of themselves. Kacchan was strong, Jirou was careful, and both of them were smart, so Midoriya had no doubt that they could take care of themselves no problem.

But there were civilians involved.

Not that Kacchan and Jirou couldn't take care of it, in fact, whoever was with them were probably the safest civilians in this whole mess, but that didn't change the fact that there were civilians smack dab in the middle of the action.

And when civilians were in the mix, they were always the priority, _no matter how much they slow the hero down. _

For some reason, Kamino came to mind.

"_That's not important._" came Kacchan's crass response.

Subconsciously, Midoriya bristled. "It's very important, Kacchan!"

"_It's_ not! _Look, I've got everything under control, alright? So don't doubt me, a*shole! Besides,_ if _I was to _entertain _you with a response, I just might be gift-wrapping a list of potential hostages and handing it over to the villains on a silver platter! In fact, why the h*ll are you pointing the civilians out?! _Think, _you idiot!_"

Midoriya cringed. He had a point. "You're right." he sighed. "You're right, I get that... _But,_"

The freckled teen could hear Kacchan's low growl through the speaker, but he pressed on, regardless. "But if there's a chance that we could...extract them somehow..."

From his peripheral, he could see Asui glancing at someone, low whispers increasing as his friends tried to keep up with and understand his train of thought. At this point in the game, infiltrating the building without directly coordinating with the heroes might just be suicide, or even more likely, the cause of several civilian deaths, and Midoriya refused to allow that to happen.

However, if there was just the slightest opportunity that he could save _anyone... _

If there was the slightest opportunity that he could assist Kacchan in _any way..._

"_...And exactly how are you gonna do that?_" Kacchan questioned skeptically.

Midoriya swallowed, already dreading the words about to crawl out of his mouth. "That depends," he grimaced. "On where in the building you are right now."

Silence fell over them, barely broken by the long, tired sigh and the new string of muffled sentences that filtered through the speaker. Midoriya could feel his nerves going haywire, goosebumps running along his skin and icy cold crawling up with spine. Even above the pulsating hyper-awareness, the one that made every pebble under his sneakers dig into his skin and every little breeze leave him shivering from the cold, that stomach-churning nervousness was still there, making its presence known and almost making him feel physically ill.

_Was this a risk worth taking? _

Suddenly, he wasn't so sure.

"_Tch._" Midoriya jumped at the sound, suddenly curling into himself as Kacchan clicked his tongue. "_Why the f*ck does everything need to be so complicated with you? Always gotta save everybody, don't you?_"

"Kacchan..."

"_I swear to All Might, with this whole mess, everything just seems so _**backward** _and_ **upside down,** _all of a sudden._"

Midoriya paused, expression contorted in confusion. "Kacchan, is everything okay?"

"_Just peachy._" he hissed. "_Now listen up, 'cause I'm not repeating myself! You want a location? Fine. I'll give you a d*mn location, but if they catch us, it's on you, got it? So don't f*ck this up._"

Midoriya already had his notebook raised, nerves tingling as if blood circulation had been cut off. "Kacchan, are you s-?"

"_When you clowns get the heroes to do their d*mn jobs and get their a*ses in here, meet us in room 328. It's in the east wing, I think. It's hard to keep track with all the other sh*t going on._"

"Room 328?"

And there it was, out in the open, for anyone listening to hear.

Except that something already seemed off, even as Midoriya scribbled the number down.

Eyebrows high above his hairline, Midoriya glanced around at his friends. "Does anyone have a mall directory we could look at?"

"On it!" Ashido cheered, already tapping away on his phone. "Malls usually have directories on their websites!"

"_Deku._"

Midoriya jumped, his attention immediately yanked back to his phone. "Y- Yes?"

"_When this is all over, you and the other chucklef*cks owe us big time!_"

"Huh?" Midoriya blinked. "But we didn't do anythin-"

"_Sparky did!_" he suddenly yelled. "_Sparky and the other sh*theads broke my phone! They owe me, at least! A trip somewhere, on them!_"

Midoriya sucked in a deep breath, pencil ready and phone balanced precariously. He almost sighed in relief out loud when Uraraka, the _angel,_ kindly picked it up for him and held it against his ear. "You wanna go on a trip? Kind of unusual for you." Midoriya chuckled, even as he could feel his palms starting to sweat.

"_Yeah, well, I deserve it! And it better not be some cheap-o trash heap, either! On a scale of 0 to 9, if it doesn't blow me away, I will annihilate each and every one of you losers and your sh*t tastes!_"

_**0 to 9**_

"_I might even have a place in mind, somewhere in the northeast of town... Or, f*ck, was it the southwest? D*mmit, I'm having a Sparky moment!_"

_**Northeast, southwest**_

"_F*cking backward, upside down bullsh*t._"

_**Backward and upside down**_

Midoriya did his best to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Okay, Kacchan." he laughed. "You win. We'll see what we can do about that."

"_And you're paying._"

"Wha- _Me!?_"

"_I'd say Sparky and Horns, but I'm already gonna shake 'em down for money for a new phone._"

Midoriya slightly blanched. He wasn't entirely convinced that he didn't actually mean that.

On the other end, the greenette could make out a voice that sounded like Jirou muttering something. Kacchan snapped something back before his voice filtered through clearly again. "_Listen, Nerd. You could say I slipped to coordinates, so we're on a time limit now. We've both got sh*t to do._"

_Time to end the call,_ Midoriya translated grimly. "Right... You're right. I- ...I'm glad that you're okay."

"_Tch. What were expecting, hah? Don't look down on me._"

Midoriya smiled warmly. "Just don't do anything too reckless, okay?"

"_That is the most hypocritical garbage I've ever heard come out of your d*mn mouth._" Kacchan scoffed, and Midoriya couldn't help the way his face flushed in embarrassment, clutching his notebook to his chest as he scuffed his foot against the ground and fought his wobbly smile.

After everything they've been through, he never knew how to process these beautifully sentimental moments.

"_And you, don't do anything stupid._"

The line went dead.

* * *

"So, we're going for it, then." Earlobes stated ominously. "Now or never."

Behind the counter, Orange's gaze swiveled between the two heroes-in-training, the rodent sitting quietly and comfortably in her sweater pocket. Earlobes leaned coolly against the wall, arms crossed as she watched the covered windows with a critical eye.

And Bakugou glared down at the flip phone as he set it on the counter, shoulders tensed and eyes blazing. Releasing a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, he turned to the purple-haired girl, a feral grin slowly spreading over his face. "H*ll yeah," he said. "So listen up, 'cause we've got sh*t to do."

* * *

"So... Wait a minute." Kaminari started, confused. "What do you mean, room 328 doesn't exist?"

"Look at the directory and see for yourself!" Ashido exclaimed, shoving her phone in his face. "There's barely anything on the east wing's third floor, to begin with! If it was there, we'd see it!"

From where he now sat, Midoriya ignored their confused banter for the moment, pencil tapping rhythmically against the paper. He barely even minded the small dots and dashes of graphite he was leaving on the page, staring intently at the clues he'd quickly written out as Kacchan had spoken to him.

_**Room 328**_

_** 0 to 9**_

_** Northeast, southwest**_

_**Backward and upside down**_

Midoriya hummed, pursing his lips as he forced his spiraling nerves and the energy of One For All down. Since saying their exact location was too dangerous, this little puzzle should reveal the room that they were actually in. It was that subject, after all, that Kacchan suddenly started speaking in code.

_**328**_

_** 0 to 9**_

Midoriya's frown deepened.

_**Backward and upside down**_

backward was an easy place to start, but that still left him with an even more confusing equation and zero answers.

_**823**_

Whereas 328 was a room that could feasibly exist, 823 was not. Midoriya ran a hand through his hair, tapping his pencil more incessantly against the paper and leaving a mess of random marking on the page.

Upside down. What did he mean by _upside down? _

_**0 to 9**_

With just a second's hesitation, Midoriya wrote out the number sequence, from zero up to nine, then drew a curved line with arrows from zero to nine. Was that also backward? But what was upside down? Or did he mean-?

_It clicked. _

With a gasp, Midoriya swallowed the urge to yell _eureka!_ and quickly rewrote the number sequence, starting with zero, now vertically. Then, he wrote it again, this time starting with nine. When flipped upside down, zero flipped with nine, one with eight, and the same with two and seven, three and six, and four and five.

_**328**_

_** 823**_

_** 8 – 1**_

_** 2 – 7**_

_** 3 – 6**_

_** 176**_

"Ashido!" Midoriya suddenly shouted, making his friends jump "Sorry! I just- Look for a room 176!"

"176?" Ashido asked in confusion, even as she tapped at her phone screen to do so. Kaminari mouthed the number skeptically, looking over at Sero for help and only getting a shrug in response. Kirishima, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Asui had gone quiet, dropping whatever they were talking about as they waited for whatever discovery that Midoriya had possibly made.

"Ummmm..." Ashido tilted her head. "Yeah, there's a 176. It's a clothing store on the ground floor in the north wing, kinda close to a security area."

_**Northeast, southwest**_

_By east, he meant north. Southwest was just mentioned to emphasize that. _

"That's where they are." he breathed, scrambling to his feet with a new fire burning in his chest.

Kaminari blinked in confusion. "Wait, what? How do you know?"

"Because Kacchan told me so."

He and Ashido looked at him as if he'd just grown three new heads, but Midoriya paid them no mind. "Asui, Kirishima, you guys are with me. Our distraction will be by the east wing of the building. Kaminari, Todoroki, Uraraka, Sero, you guys wait by the north side for my signal. Ashido. I'm gonna tell you to stick with me for now, but stay around this area in case Hagakure-"

"_Guys!_" Midoriya must have leaped three feet in the air at the sudden shout, a floating outfit racing towards them as Hagakure waved her arms around manically. "Guys, guys, _guys!_"

For some reason, Midoriya felt his stomach drop, wringing his hands nervously as Ashido stepped forward. In the distance, he could hear the faraway onlookers suddenly roaring with cheers and shouting as activity around the police tents suddenly picked up, officers and heroes alike running around in preparation for something. Ashido gulped. "Hagakure, what's going on?"

Even though they couldn't see it, Midoriya was sure Hagakure was pointing towards where the sound was coming from as she waved her arm. "You're not gonna believe this! All Might and Endeavor both just showed up!"

* * *

**Disclaimer: I have absolutely no clue how room numbering works in malls, but the same little code thingy should work for any three-number combination. *shrugs***


	11. Friction: The Venture Pt1

**My hero sense hc is briefly brought up. If you don't know what that is, it's basically this sixth sense, spidey sense sort of thing that some heroes have where they can tell that someone's in danger or that something's wrong. The more emotionally attached they are to a person, the stronger the reaction. At this point in time, All Might, Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima are the only people confirmed to have it. You can see it in action in A Fleeting Smile, as well as at the beginning of Our Hero. It's also hinted at in Stray Bullet, I guess.**

**If you want a more detailed explanation, there's an AO3 exclusive story I have called 'The Hero Sense'. You can find me and more exclusive content (you can find uncensored versions of Stray Bullet, Our Hero, and A Little Demonstration on there) on AO3 under the same username. (If you have a hard time navigating AO3 and are interested, try googling anonymoustwit fic.)**

* * *

_"Promise me you'll never become a hero." _

Hamuro cringed as she smacked her static headphones a little too hard, the frequency whining in response and startling Ham awake in her lap. Fiddling with the device, she quickly turned them back off, afraid of possibly leading any crafty villains listening in right to their location. If she wasn't mistaken, these headphones had GPS capabilities, which could make tracking them obnoxiously easy. She wouldn't be able to take away that threat completely, not without messing the connections up and rendering the headphones pointless, but she could at least make them as hard to track as possible.

Better safe than sorry, after all.

Out in the store, Hamuro could hear the tearing of cloth, Jirou ripping up clothing articles and stuffing them into Hamuro's backpack as makeshift emergency bandaging. She was humming something under her breath, soft enough that no one outside would easily notice, but loud enough that Hamuro could hear the melody clearly, some kind of pop song melody that she didn't quite recognize. Every once in awhile, she would sing English lyrics under her breath as she rummaged around the store for thicker materials that she could tear through.

"Make sure you have enough to stitch your a*s back together in case anything goes south." Bakugou barked out, Jirou simply humming in affirmation. Facing downward towards her work, Hamuro could only see his feet as he stepped behind the counter, dark red fabric tightly wrapped around his injured leg. Focused on the task at hand, Hamuro set her headphones aside and began tinkering with the next set as the older teen crouched down in front of her.

"I'm guessing this sh*t you're doing here serves a purpose." Bakugou commented, vaguely gesturing towards the open compartments on all three headphones and the rapidly blinking lights and buttons.

"Mm-hmm. I'm making them harder to track." Hamuro nodded frantically, not even glancing up from her work. "They have GPS tech, so if I leave them as they are, they'd be super easy to track. I'll have to weaken the connection and encrypt what I can, which will mess with the sound quality, but it's better than having big huge target signs sitting on our heads."

Bakugou said nothing in response, instead leaning back against the counter and sitting down with a huff. Ham stirred in Hamuro's lap, stretching and yawning before gingerly crawling out. Glancing over, Hamuro couldn't help but smile at the heated glare Bakugou shot at her hamster as he leaned up on his leg, staring up at him with shiny black eyes. A moment later, Ham was trying to climb over his leg and into his lap.

Hamuro grinned. "He likes you."

Bakugou scoffed. "Focus on your gadgets, kid." he sneered, leaning further against the counter and letting his eyes slip shut, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"Still not that much older than me..." Hamuro mumbled, fiddling with the headphones while Ham ended up losing his balance and clumsily rolling off of Bakugou's leg. Bakugou barely opened an eye as Ham flailed, quickly righting himself and shook himself back into focus.

Smiling contently at her little pet, Hamuro's eyes trailed up to the red fabric wrapped around his arm, a barely noticeable stain soaking through the torn sleeve. Hamuro's smile slowly fell, a spike of sympathetic pain stabbing through her heart as she bit down on her lip.

"Um..." Hamuro hesitated, her fingers twitching uncomfortably. "Are... Are you sure you're okay?"

Even as his eyes snapped open, he didn't even bother to fully face her, his bright, searing gaze sending her heart leaping into her throat. "I told you to drop it."

Hamuro frowned, wringing her hands. "But you were bleedi-"

The fist slamming loudly into the back of the counter startled her so badly that she almost screamed, shrinking back with wide eyes as sharp scarlet bore into her like welding torches. Somewhere in their vicinity, she barely registered the startled squeak and the terrified rodent skittering back into her lap and shoving itself up her sweater vest.

"Shut your _f*cking trap,_ you _f*cking b*tch._" he snarled, a low, menacing growl in his voice akin to that of a rabid dog. "This is _nothing._"

Hamuro's mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish as she searched for words, for some kind of response that wouldn't offend him further as he slowly leaned back into his earlier position, the spike of rage still a simmering mass roiling behind his steely gaze. Hamuro swallowed harshly.

"Right..." she muttered, easing back and allowing her racing heart to slow. "Right, right. S- Sorry."

With a wobbly smile, Hamuro let herself relax, looking down at her nearly forgotten project. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just-..."

"I can handle it. Don't f*cking worry about me."

Hamuro opened her mouth to say something, but ultimately decided against, choosing instead to pick her next words more carefully. "...'Cause... 'Cause you're a hero, right?"

He snorted wryly at that. "A hero who's had _way_ worse scrapes than this, so don't you dare look down on me, got it, kid?"

The orange-haired girl felt her sore shoulders relax as she scratched at her cheek timidly, headphones almost forgotten. Bakugou returned to resting his eyes as Ham's little hamster head popped out of the top of Hamuro's sweater vest.

"Right... I forget how tough you guys are, sometimes." Hamuro admitted, eyes sparkling and a light flush warming her cheeks. "Heroes are so cool. I could never be one myself, but they're just...so, so cool."

Silence fell back over them, Hamuro gathering her stuff back together and returning to work with the headphones. The sooner she got all of this done, the sooner they could make their move. The signals that the "eyes" might send was also something that she would need to double-check, especially since if they were hacked, then the villains would be able to see through them and see everything that she was seeing. It would definitely be best to encrypt them the same way she had done with the security cameras. The most dangerous part would be that a trained eye would probably recognize her handiwork, and if the villains saw her as a threat and found her, well...

There wouldn't be much she could do to protect herself. Not without her quirk, and especially against daggers and firearms.

There was a click of a tongue. "You keep saying that." Bakugou suddenly said, staring ahead with an unreadable expression. "That sh*t about not being able to be a hero. Who decided that, anyway?"

The question threw her off, leaving her speechless. Mind racing, Hamuro stared blankly at the tools and pairs of headphones strewn around in front of her. Bakugou was watching her, the burning rage from just a moment ago simmering down to a slightly more welcoming warmth.

Keyword: _Slightly._ His glare was still that of someone who kicked puppies and ate babies, but at this point, she was slowly, _slowly_ starting to get used to it.

_"It takes some getting used to, but once you get to know him, you'll be glad he's on our side."_

She thinks she might get it now.

"Umm..." Hamuro thought aloud, drumming her fingers nervously. "Well, I... I just- You know."

"No, I f*cking don't."

"I- I can't." she stuttered. "I know I can't, 'cause my quirk's not good for fighting, and it's not flashy, and I just don't have what it takes."

Bakugou remained quiet as Hamuro finally went back to work on the second pair of headphones. "That's why I'm focusing on support now, because I know I'm good at that."

"Who decided that?"

Hamuro paused, blinking in confusion. "Huh?"

"Who decided," Bakugou growled. "That you couldn't be a d*mn hero? Is that really something you came up with on your own? Because somehow, from what I've seen of your loud, annoying a*s self, I f*cking doubt it."

Hamuro didn't remember Jirou mentioning just how easily Bakugou could apparently leave people speechless.

_"Promise me you'll never become a hero." _

"Wel-... I-..." she tried, her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and words as she scrambled to pull them all together into cohesive ideas and feelings. "I- I'm not very strong, or street smart, or quick-witted, or any of those things that you need to be a hero. I know it's dangerous, and if I ever hesitate and all that, then I could get someone killed..."

She bit her lip, shoulders drooping. "I could get _myself_ killed."

_"Promise me, Mika." _

_It was always easier to come up with excuses._

"And besides," she added, her voice low and words mumbled. "I promised my mom I wouldn't, anyway."

By the skeptical glare that Bakugou shot at her, Hamuro wasn't entirely sure whether she gave him the right or wrong answer. After an awkward beat that had her curling into herself, she heard an annoyed _tch_ that had her shoulders rising up to her ears. "There it is." he grumbled.

"There's what?"

The look he gave her could have turned her to stone just as easily as it could bring her back to life. "You're not the one who decided you couldn't be a hero, are you?"

And that was an ugly truth, wasn't it?

Because he wasn't exactly wrong.

And a part of Hamuro _knew_ that.

_But..._

_**"Promise me, Mika." **_

"I still couldn't, though." she quickly laughed, waving her arm dismissively. "Haha! I'm such a klutz, you know? You saw! I almost got us both captured! Can you really imagine someone like me being a hero?!"

Her grin wobbled, strained and so fake that he was clearly seeing right through her. Hamuro rubbed harshly at the back of her scalp, Ham climbing onto her shoulder and pressing against her cheek in a comforting fashion. "I mean... I mean, you've seen clumsy heroes before, right? It always ends bad, just like..."

The smile fell slowly, feigned gusto leaving her like a balloon losing air. "Just like my mom's sister."

It was at this point that Hamuro began to acknowledge the numb feeling in her chest, the dryness of her eyes as she stared down at her shaking hands. Ham rubbed at her cheek, a tiny squeak and clicking sounds filling her ear, and for a moment, she was eight years old again, curled up on a loveseat far too big for her and sobbing until exhaustion dragged her into a fitful sleep, into a place in her head, in her dreams, where her mother had _never gotten in that stupid cab. _

Hamuro bit down hard on her lip, the warmth of blood and the sharp sting pulling her back into reality.

"My mom's sister," Hamuro continued, licking at her lip to keep the blood from dripping down her chin. "Her name was Rui. I never actually met Aunt Rui."

"I didn't ask, but whatever." His voice startled her. Somehow, in her short little spiral, she'd almost forgotten she wasn't talking to herself. "Was she a hero or some sh*t?"

Hamuro quickly collected herself, shaking her head. "No, but she and my mom went to a hero school... My mom did have a boyfriend in a heroics department, though."

The orange-haired girl fidgeted. "I think his name was Shuuichi? I don't remember his quirk, though. Anyway, she really, really liked him. Like, she used to sometimes talk about how she was still sure he'd been 'the one'. It would make my dad really sad whenever she talked about him."

Hamuro smiled sadly. "I never met either of them, actually. They both died in a villain attack during their third year. I don't think my mom ever got over it."

A clear droplet landing on her hand seemed to startle Ham, his clicking becoming even more incessant. Hamuro's lips wobbled. "I think I get it, though, that it hurts to lose someone like that... Especially when you're not ready for it. When mom died, I..."

Her voice was shaking just as badly as her hands, the swirling emotions leaving her on the edge of becoming nothing but a trembling mess. "All I had to remember her by was the color of my hair and that... That _silly promise._"

_Never forget._

_**"Promise me you'll never become a hero." **_

"S- So... So I... I..."

_Convinced myself that she was right. _

"I can't be a hero." Hamuro whimpered pitifully. "I want to, but I can't."

And she let herself cry, all the pent up grief and frustration from the last five years of nothing but impossible goals and heartbreak hitting her tenfold. Ham seemed to become agitated, painfully climbing up onto the top of her head and plopping down in her hair as if he owned it. Hamuro fiercely yanked her glasses off, rubbing at her eyes until they were hot and sore.

So caught up in her emotions, she didn't even notice a third person peering over the counter. "What the h*ll did you say to her?"

Bakugou sputtered indignantly. "F*ck off, Earlobes! I didn't do anything!"

All at once, the present moment came rushing back, Hamuro looking down at her incomplete project with wide eyes and reddened cheeks. With a small _'eep!'_, she scrambled to gather her tools and gadgets and get back to work, ignoring whatever Jirou and Bakugou were going on about.

She had a job to do.

In a way, this was almost like her own little way of being a hero. Building support gear and new technologies, guiding from afar, making a hero's job that much easier, it was as if she could be a hero for the heroes, and telling herself that that was enough made her aching heart hurt just a little bit less. Determination restored, encrypting and tinkering with everything went by that much quicker, even as her hands still shook and her tools would still slip through her fingers.

So clumsy...

"Hamuro?" Jirou stood over her now, her brows creased in concern as she stared down at her. Ham squeaked in Hamuro's ear as she perked up. Jirou huffed. "You okay? You were crying earlier."

"Oh, yeah! Yeah! I'm okay now!" she cheered, even as her fingers continued to quiver and her glasses sat lop-sided on her face. "I'm almost done, so give me a sec!"

Jirou didn't look entirely convinced, but as Hamuro finished her final preparations, she must have decided to drop it. Messily pulling everything into her arms, she jumped to her feet, laying everything out on the counter. Cracking her fingers, Hamuro shoved a pair of headphones onto her head and flipped them on.

"Testing, testing!" she cheered into the microphone, though even she felt herself internally cringing at the forced peppiness. Jirou grabbed a pair and slipped them on as Hamuro continued to ramble. "Testing one, two, three! A, B, C! May I take your order?"

"Sounds really buzzy, but I understand you."

Bakugou huffed. "Of course you can. The brat's standing right in front of you."

"Still not that much younger than you." Hamuro piped up, headphones hanging around her next and the strange camera goggles sitting on top of her head, though the two older teens seemed to ignore her.

Jirou rolled her eyes as Bakugou grabbed the last headphones. "Well, fine then, Blast. I guess we'll know once we get out of here."

Bakugou snorted at her, but didn't comment any further, instead turning his attention towards the night vision goggles and the USB sitting on the table. "Earlobes, Orange, you guys know what you're doing, right?"

Hamuro pursed her lip, eying the clothes shop's backroom, where she would be holing up and directing the others using the unconnected laptop with the building schematics and her 'eyes'. From what she remembered, the room with the machine was on the second floor, and now that she'd double-checked, she could confirm that it was on the west-facing side of the north wing of the building. It was a lucky break, honestly, since that meant that they didn't have to travel through the central plaza, and it was pretty much confirmed that there were no hostages being held in the north wing, which meant that they could move a little more freely. Guards were still a threat, obviously, especially closer to the machine, but at least they wouldn't be putting anyone else in danger.

While Hamuro stayed in place, Jirou and Bakugou would be the ones going out into the mall. They planned on staying together for as long as possible, but once they got as far as they could together, Bakugou would play decoy and lure as many guards away as he could. Jirou, meanwhile, would be the one to actually carry the USB and destroy the machine.

And once the machine was destroyed, all h*ll would break loose. The rest, from there, would be left to the heroes on standby outside.

With a sigh, Bakugou handed Jirou the night vision goggles. "You take these. It's more important that you can see where you're going. They're supposed to notice me. They _can't_ notice you."

Jirou nodded solemnly, grabbing and pocketing the USB before accepting the goggles and turning away to maneuver them around her headphones and over her head. Another long sigh escaped Bakugou's lips as he ran a hand through his hair, and suddenly, almost abruptly, Hamuro realized just how tired he looked. Honestly, he looked just as tired as she felt.

She tried to ignore the goosebumps running along her arms as she stared over at the covered windows. A part of her understood why they needed to take the risk, but the other was more than a little nervous about being left alone. Unlike her two companions, she couldn't exactly defend herself, if she was found, and if anyone got curious enough to search the store, there weren't a lot of places to hide. Someone was bound to look inside, and that person was bound to find her.

Hamuro looked up at the vent with interest.

"Hey, Bakugou?"

He eyed her with a look that she couldn't quite decipher, an eyebrow quirked and posture bored. Hamuro wrung her hands. "Instead of the backroom, ...do you think I could hide up in the vents?"

His brows shot up at that, arms crossed as he glanced up at the same grate she'd been staring at. "The laptop has enough battery to last a few hours and if somebody finds this store, they probably won't find me."

Jirou was watching them now, all three of them silent as Bakugou nodded to himself. "Probably a good idea, actually."

Hamuro smiled, even if it was just the slightest bit weary. The ladder was brought back out a moment later, Hamuro watching silently as she let her cheery mask fall for a moment, her whirling emotions and mental exhaustion slamming into her all over again. Conflicted feelings that she hadn't acknowledged in literal years were bubbling up to the surface at the worst possible time and frankly, the young girl wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself.

She had her whole life ahead of her. _Her_ life.

What would she do with that life?

What _could_ she do?

Absentmindedly, climbing onto the ladder towards the grate, Hamuro paused. "Hey, Bakugou?"

His expression was now more readable, annoyance and impatience clearly painting his face. Honestly, Hamuro wasn't even sure why she was wasting her time with this, wasting _their_ time, but her heart was screaming out for answers, for some kind of sign, and she couldn't help but argue with herself that logically, the fewer distractions there were, the better.

So she asked.

"Do you think I could be a hero?"

The question seemed to genuinely catch him off guard, if his stupefied blinking was anything to go by, but he recovered quickly, schooling his face with a look of indifference, and the sneer that crossed his features almost looked practiced.

"How the f*ck should I know?" he scoffed. "Figure it out on your own."

At the time, she hadn't truly understood what he meant, but she clung to those words, regardless.

* * *

"Hmm. This could be a problem."

As much as he loved Todoroki, Midoriya had never felt so much understanding towards Kacchan as he did in that moment, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to punch the dual quirk user square in the face.

For now, however, he held his smile as Japan's former and current number one heroes crossed through the police tape, the crowds forcefully parted as they approached. Heart pounding, Midoriya grabbed Todoroki's arm and began making his way deeper into the mess of police tents and heroes running to and fro. The others followed close behind, expressions ranging from nervous smiles and strong grimaces.

"Yeah, no sh*t, it's a problem." Sero grumbled under his breath, scratching the back of his head. Kaminari and Ashido simply nodded along sagely.

"This'll cause an increase in activity, kero." Asui thought aloud, meeting Midoriya's gaze. "Not only is someone more likely to notice us, or notice that we're missing, but All Might and Endeavor might come looking for you and Todoroki. So much for covert."

"It'll be fine." Uraraka said, though even she looked somewhat unsure. "Maybe more people being around will actually make it _harder_ to notice us."

"Yeah." Kirishima piped up. "Let's stay positive."

Midoriya bit his lip, eyes scanning the world around them. From the looks of it, Hagakure had already made herself scarce, which was probably for the best. As their main spy, they needed her to stay out of sight as much as possible.

"Let's spread out." Midoriya suggested. "Keep moving in the same direction, but stay apart."

The group quickly scattered, pulling apart and spreading out through the small camp. Glancing around, Midoriya kept his eyes open for shaggy blonde hair, listening closely for a jovial, yet tired call. He could already see it, All Might with a smile painted on his face to hide any fear or concern that he might be feeling. Midoriya doesn't know how much of the situation All Might was already aware of, but he supposed that it didn't matter for the time being.

Either way, if they were going to run into anyone, he supposed that All Might would be the easiest to get around. Most likely, he would be the most open to his scheme and the most likely to not rat them out, though he would still likely try to reprimand or stop them in some way. So long as the villains were stopped and the civilians and his friends saved, it didn't matter. Either way, All Might wasn't a concern.

Endeavor, however, was another story.

Midoriya had only worked with him for so long, but between that and Todoroki's accounts, Endeavor would probably be as quick to stop them as Aizawa, especially if it's Todoroki himself that he confronts. Despite their past and Todoroki's disdain towards him, Midoriya had noticed fairly early on that Endeavor really did care about his son's safety, at least nowadays. He still remembered the return trip from Nabu Island, a bewildered Todoroki awkwardly stumbling through his strange account of his father openly and obnoxiously sobbing over him when they'd found him relatively okay in the aftermath of their battle with Nine and his cronies.

Either way, Endeavor would make things far more complicated, and Midoriya didn't think that Todoroki was any more eager to see him than the greenette himself was.

The problem was that Midoriya would bet his entire allowance that Endeavor would be looking for him, and he was just as confident that All Might would want to say hello. As long as they were out of sight, the two pros would have their eyes out for the two of them. Specifically them.

Biting his lip, Midoriya met Todoroki's eyes, motioning for him to come closer as he searched the crowd for pink. The freckled teen carefully jogged over to where Ashido was half milling around and have following her classmates, Todoroki following close behind. "Hey, Ashido."

Ashido's dark eyes snapped to attention as Midoriya grasped her shoulder. "New plan. Tell everyone to make their way towards the mall and to split into their teams. Kaminari, Uraraka, and Sero head for the north wing, and Kirishima and Asui go to the east." he explained carefully. "After that, meet back up with me and Todoroki."

Todoroki was giving him a weird look, but he kept his mouth shut as Ashido quickly saluted and bolted towards where Kaminari and Sero were still sticking together. "What are we doing, exactly?"

"Simple." Midoriya responded evenly. "We're gonna greet All Might and Endeavor."

Todoroki's brow shot up, an almost dirty look in his eyes, but Midoriya barreled on. "My guess is that they're both gonna come looking for us, either way. I don't want them to worry All Might, and I'm a little worried about how Endeavor would react if he knew what we were doing."

Todoroki watched him, almost disinterested as he sized him up, but the skeptical squint of his eyelids was gone a moment later, replaced with a more tired expression. "You don't want them to get suspicious."

"Exactly."

In all honesty, he felt bad about keeping All Might in the dark. He didn't want to feel the need to hide from him, but this plan just felt so _necessary_ and _important._

_Somewhere in his mind's eye, he was flying over Kamino, he and Iida tightly gripping Kirishima as he desperately held out his hand._

_ 'You shouldn't get involved,'_ they'd said, and yet, he doesn't want to think about what might have happened if he hadn't.

He didn't want anything to get in the way of this. Not even All Might himself.

The civilians. Jirou. _Kacchan. _

_This was too important. _

"Okay." Todoroki sighed with a nod, following closely behind as Midoriya turned on his heel and made his way towards where most of the commotion seemed to be. Weaving past police and vaguely familiar faces, Midoriya felt his face instinctively light up at the sight of a tall, lanky figure ducking through the camp, an almost literal ball of fire right on his heels that had a few people backpedaling from the heat alone. The scorching fire of the current number one was a perfect cover to explain the sweat on All Might's brow, but with his trained eye, Midoriya could easily see the creases of concern marring his features, the way his fingers twitched and drummed at the air as if begging, pleading for action.

His mentor's sharp blue eyes snapped instantly to his own green hues, bright with something that Midoriya couldn't even properly identify. The smile that slowly split his face in half broke the teen's heart as a thin All Might, clad in a suit far too big for his person, waved to him in subdued excitement, running to meet him halfway.

"All Might!" Midoriya called, allowing a smile of his own to light up his face. "It's good to see y-!"

He had not been ready for All Might's lanky form to barrel right into him.

Midoriya subconsciously stiffened as he was tightly wrapped in his mentor's arms, held up against his chest as his shaggy hair tickled his cheek and his large, bony hand pressed against the back of his head. Midoriya swallowed, trying his best to ignore the lump in his throat as All Might squeezed him a bit tighter before pulling back, looking him over.

"All Might?" Midoriya asked tentatively.

All Might stared at him for a moment longer, a slight twinge of Frustration deep in Midoriya's heart the longer the veteran hero didn't say anything. All Might eventually let out a long sigh, dropping his head as his hands dug into Midoriya's shoulders, his grip tight enough to cause a dull ache. Midoriya kept his mouth shut about it.

Apparently, Midoriya wasn't the only one starting to get a little impatient with the still silence. "Shouto."

Glancing back, Midoriya watched as Todoroki carefully schooled his face, emotionless, uncaring heterochromatic eyes gazing up at Endeavor. Endeavor, on his part, was being just the slightest bit more transparent, with some kind of emotion in his expression that Midoriya was also finding himself unable to read. Whatever he was feeling, it was there, and he was showing it. Todoroki, at least, seemed to be as unsure as Midoriya was, even as he held his stoic expression.

Endeavor looked the dual quirk user up and down, head to toe, before he simply nodded to himself. "I see you're in good health." he said, somewhat awkwardly. Todoroki's brow twitched. "All Might had expressed some..._concerns_ to me, so I wanted to make sure that you were well."

Todoroki was quiet for a moment, barely moving an inch as he stared up at his father, before his brow twitched again and light sneer fought itself onto his face. He quickly looked away. "Well, here I am." he shrugged.

Despite the tense atmosphere, Endeavor took his son's response as it was. "Very well, then. All Might, we don't have much time to waste." he barked. "Detective Tsukauchi and Eraserhead are waiting for us."

"Yes, yes, I'm aware. I..." All Might let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. "I need a moment. Go ahead of me. I'll catch up."

"Are you serious?" Endeavor asked somewhat heatedly. When All Might didn't response, he huffed, throwing his hands in the air and marching off to meet with the other heroes. All Might sighed, his eyes once again meeting Midoriya's.

"How are you, my boy?" he asked, carefully standing back up to his full height, looming over Midoriya like the sun high in the sky. "I... I felt that something was seriously wrong and I was worried. Then I heard-..."

He bit his lip. "I'd heard that you and you're class had been here at the time of the initial attack, and with my senses acting up so harshly, I had started to assume the worst."

There was still a pinch in his face, a certain strain in his expression that had Midoriya squirming where he stood. He tried his best to ignore his classmate, the light shining in his eyes making him look almost smug. The greenette sighed. "I'm okay, I promise. I'm all right here, see?"

He stepped back, his smile as bright as stars as he spread his arms out, a sort of _'ta-da!'_ to ease All Might's mind. His hero sense was likely still in overdrive, because he's _All Might _and All Might is amazing, but if Midoriya could possibly do anything to help him feel even the slightest bit better, then it was more than worth an extra couple of seconds of his time.

All Might couldn't help but grin. "Yes, I see that now. I'm glad you're unharmed, Young Midoriya."

Midoriya not to let his smile fall, once again glancing over at Todoroki. His classmate stared back at him with pursed lips, the same idea likely running through his head.

_We might not be 'unharmed' for long. _

It would be worth it, though, to see their friends and everyone else alive and well.

It had to be.

"All Might." Todoroki suddenly spoke up, approaching the pair. "Your hero sense, is it...?"

All Might's face fell at that, something akin to a grimace crossing his features. "I was about to ask you two about that. How have you been holding up? And what about young Kirishima? And young Bakugou?"

Though Todoroki easily hid any reaction he might have had, Midoriya wasn't able to stop his sharp intake of breath at the mention of Kacchan's name. All Might didn't miss the change in atmosphere, and suddenly, he was back on high alert, a gleam not unlike his heroic form's persona suddenly lighting up. "Something did happen, I take it."

Todoroki, apparently, decided that beating around the bush would be pointless. "Bakugou is still in there." he blurted, gesturing at the mall.

All Might instantly straightened at that, his eyes hardening with something heated. Midoriya cringed. "Yes, um, Kacchan and Jirou are both in there, though they're okay... I think?"

Truth be told, Midoriya's hero sense had been acting strangely, coming in waves at apparently random intervals. He knew that Kacchan and Jirou hadn't actually been captured, but were still actively trying to thwart the villains' scheme, whatever it was.

_Whatever it was. _

He could open that can of worms later.

Either way, it wasn't just his classmates in there. There were dozens and dozens of helpless civilians being held hostage in there, all of which were in mortal danger, and Midoriya knew for a fact that his sense was reacting to them as well.

And because of that, his nerves were a spiraling mess that he could barely keep together.

The hero sense had only spiked a few times so far, where the sun was suddenly far too bright and he could feel the ground beneath his feet, pebbles digging into the soles of his sneakers, and only once or twice so far had he felt as if he was going to vomit or pass out. He didn't know what that meant, and that scared him, but he clung to the fact he hadn't been incapacitated by it yet.

That meant that there was still hope.

"I see..." All Might responded carefully. Midoriya turned to Todoroki, the taller boy simply nodding to him. Farther back, among the milling emergency workers, a splotch of pink caught his eye, Ashido silently waiting for them to bounce into action.

"Yeah..." Midoriya muttered absentmindedly.

"Well, don't worry." All Might said suddenly, his smile bright and sure. "Everything will be alright. Why? Because I am here!"

Midoriya couldn't help the childish giddiness bubbling up inside, eyes sparkling up at his childhood idol with a hopeful wonder that he didn't think he would ever lose in the presence of the former number one hero.

"And now, I am going off to find Eraserhead!" he announced, psyching himself up and turning to make his way over to where Endeavor had gone. "Don't worry about a thing, boys! We'll save them!"

And with that, he was gone, Midoriya idly waving after him. A part of him, deep down in the recesses of his heart where he couldn't quite reach, something that could almost be mistaken as guilt twinged against his chest.

A twinge that was immediately forgotten as Ashido jogged up to them. "You guys good?"

"Yes." Todoroki responded coolly. "I think that they were both satisfied and won't come looking for us if we disappear for a few minutes. It was actually easier than I'd been expecting."

Midoriya numbly nodded along. Ashido beamed. "Great!" she exclaimed, slapping Midoriya's shoulder. "What now, boss?"

Midoriya blushed at that, swallowing harshly. "Well, Todoroki, you head for the north wing and meet up with the others. Ashido, stick with me for now. Once we meet up with Asui and Kirishima, we can go from there."

"You got it!" Ashido cheered. Todoroki, meanwhile, nodded silently, taking off in a sprint towards where Kaminari, Sero, and Uraraka were likely waiting for him.

And Midoriya simply took a moment to breathe.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

To be completely honest with herself, Kendou couldn't help the small spike of satisfaction at the way Monoma froze mid-sentence, pupils dilated as if he'd been caught shoplifting. On the other end of the spectrum, class 1-A's Kirishima seemed to relax, a surprisingly crude _'thank f*ck'_ just barely escaping his lips. He almost seemed agitated, swallowing down his impatience as he ran a hand through his gelled hair and stepped away. Asui, meanwhile, simply watched the encounter blankly.

"...Nothing." Monoma mumbled.

Kendou scoffed. "Sorry, guys."

"Don't worry about it, kero." Asui responded, pointedly ignoring Kirishima's pacing. "We're used to it."

Monoma simply pouted, pointedly looking away and avoiding eye contact with Kendou. Kendou herself simply glared at him, fist clenched and already prepared to swing if she needed to.

Normally, she might not be so harsh about stopping him. Even if she normally had to knock him out to get him to stop trying to pick fights with the other heroics class, she usually avoided being aggressive towards him. They were friends, after all, even with how obnoxious he could be.

Right now, however, she wasn't going to be lenient with him. Not when the people he's harassing are high strung at the moment and worried about their missing friends.

"How are you guys doing, anyway?" Kendou asked carefully, pulling Monoma behind her and pushing him away. She ignored the indignant squawk that followed.

"We've been better." Asui admitted, staring down at the floor. "We're worried about our classmates, as you can imagine."

"Really, though?" Monoma mumbled. "You're all this distraught over the delinquent, of all people?"

Kendou reached around and smacked him without looking, getting another squawk. She preferred it over whatever demon growl she heard from Kirishima.

"Calm down, kero." she said quickly before turning back to Kendou. "I'm sorry. As you said, we're worried about our friends, Bakugou and Jirou both."

Kendou nodded along, watching Kirishima warily. She may not know him as well as Tetsu, but she did know that Kirishima was supposed to be an absolute sweetheart and this ferocity _wasn't normal._ Worried about somehow upsetting him further, she let it slide.

"Guys!" another voice suddenly called, Kendou watching with interest as Midoriya and Ashido came running up. Kirishima seemed to visibly relax at their arrival, stepping back to cool off. Monoma, meanwhile, swallowed whatever he was about to say when Kendou immediately stared him down, a silent warning to not test his luck any further.

Midoriya paused for a moment as his eyes met Kendou's, something flashing through them that had her doing a double-take, but his attention was pulled elsewhere just as quickly. "Asui, Kirishima, are you guys-, I mean-, can we...go? Somewhere else?"

"Lead the way, dude." Kirishima muttered, right on Midoriya's heels as he walked by.

Asui blinked, looking back at Kendou with a blank stare that was so masked that she wondered if her facial skin had somehow turned plastic. "I gotta go. Bye, Kendou."

"I'll see you all later, okay?" Ashido shouted, waving excitedly before she turned on her heel and ran off. The other three disappeared just as quickly, as if actively running away from their current conversation. It was so abrupt that Kendou wasn't even sure what just happened.

"Okay, so," Monoma started, actually ignoring Kendou's warning glare. "Is it just me being me, or was that actually weird?"

Kendou blinked, the continuous whiplash from whatever everyone was feeling within the last couple of minutes making her head spin. She blinked dumbly, stupefied as she stared off where Midoriya and his classmates had disappeared.

"Um, maybe a little?" Kendou admitted. A part of her wasn't sure if it was a good idea to give Monoma the validation, but at the same time, something was clearly awry, and she wasn't about to shut him down just because he was the one saying it.

Monoma pursed his lips, a worrisome glint in his eye. "I bet you they're up to something." he said, a mischievous smirk crossing his face.

"Monoma-"

"It wouldn't be the first time." he barreled on, full-on grinning. "Unbelievable. Those b*stards in class 1-A, always stealing the glory for themselves, am I right?"

"I doubt that-"

"I bet you that they're getting themselves involved without permission!" he laughed. "Oh, this is gold! Can you believe them!? Of course, our class is so much more well-behaved! Our homeroom teacher hasn't gotten a single gray hair from us, I bet!"

"All of his hair is gray."

"It's natural!"

Kendou rolled her eyes, glancing back off towards where the other three had run off. Tapping her foot anxiously, she crossed her arms, drumming her fingers and biting down on the inside of her cheek. The seized mall loomed dangerously overhead, almost as if it was beckoning for disaster, and suddenly, Kendou felt something akin to paranoia.

What if Monoma was on to something?

The flicker of movement on the rooftops, weapons gleaming in the sunlight as they came into view for a single moment, Kendou gulped.

"Hey," she started, Monoma watching her curiously. "You know, if they actually are getting themselves involved... Shouldn't we tell somebody?"

Monoma blinked at her, expression frozen for a moment, but his eyes lit up again a moment later, beaming as he grasped her hand between his. "Yes! Yes, yes, we should! We should definitely tell someone!"

Kendou huffed, yanking her hand away. She wasn't even sure if she was doing the right thing, but something, call it a girl's intuition, was pushing her right along. "I think I know where Aizawa-sensei is."

Monoma laughed jovially, frolicking off towards the tents, and Kendou hesitantly followed after him, looking back towards where the others had gone one last time.

She didn't know why, but something felt off, and that had her more nervous than anything.

* * *

"You guys ready?"

Lying down flat on her stomach, Hamuro fidgeted with her headphones, quickly pulling up the schematics of the mall on her computer. Neither of the eyes had been activated yet, each of her companions carrying one alongside them until the mission started for real. Hamuro herself hadn't been paying attention to when the other two had left the shop, but the ladder was gone, tucked back into the backroom storage, she believed, and the entire room under her was now dead silent.

The laptop light illuminated her face, both it and the grate lighting up the quiet vents, and for some reason, between the darkness around her and the indisputable fact that she was entirely alone, she couldn't help but feel a gnawing, aching sense of dream pulse in the back of her mind.

"_I'm always f*cking ready._"

"_Whenever you are, Hamuro._"

Hamuro nodded. "Okay." she muttered, more so for them than herself, and squinted at the screen. Room 176 was deep in the north wing of the mall, but it shouldn't be too far before they got to an escalator or stairwell that led to the second and third floors. From there, Hamuro already had a solid, well-educated guess on where the machine was. Leading Jirou to it shouldn't be a problem at all, so long as Jirou herself is stealthy and doesn't get caught. The 'eyes' are also quiet, so Hamuro should be plenty of help from her end.

The scary part was Bakugou part in this escapade.

His job was solely to bring attention to himself and away from Jirou. It was a strategy that had already worked once before, but they were also banking on the fact that they would be getting their quirks back soon. Maybe not completely, in case something goes horribly wrong, but it's still something they're hoping for.

Either way, Hamuro can't help him. She can't help him fight, and she can't tell him where to go. Just where he is at a given time. He's on his own, and no matter how confident he is, that scares her.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do about that.

Looking over the schematics, Hamuro breathed out slowly. "Okay, so Jirou's objective is on the second floor, still in the north wing. If attention is brought to the third or first floors, that would be helpful."

"_It needs to be more than that._" Bakugou growled, though his voice was quieter, now that they were out in the open. "_I'm gonna head for another wing entirely._"

Hamuro didn't like that. Staying in the north wing meant staying closer together, and for some reason, that idea gave her an odd sense of calm.

She wanted them close, as if that would somehow protect them. Protect _her._

"_I don't know if that's a good idea._" Jirou, the absolute legend, responded. "_Getting attention from guards in the north wing. That's what's important. They might not be interested in something going on somewhere else._"

"_So the f*ckers wanna stay localized then?_" he huffed, clearly irritated.

"_Yeah. That's how I would see it, anyway._"

Bakugou was quiet for a moment, anxiety crawling up Hamuro's spine, but his voice was back on a moment later. "_I think I have a game plan. We need stairs first, though._"

"Yep." Hamuro chirped, hiding her uncertainties for the time being. Now wasn't the time for it. "You guys should be coming up to some soon."

Hamuro waited with bated breath as the two slowly, carefully made their way through the desolate mall, that creeping dream crawling up Hamuro's spine like a slithering snake, ready to strike.

"_There._" she heard Jirou say.

"_Yeah, I'm not blind, Ears._"

"_I wish there were more stairs around the plaza instead of escalators._" Jirou mused ruefully. "_Anyway, you're the one that brought stairs. Going up?_"

"_Why would I waste my breath, otherwise?_"

"_Sure, sure. You see anyone?_"

Their chatter went silent for a moment. "_...No. Get moving._"

Hamuro could hear the two swiftly but silently clamoring up the stairs, nerves running along her fingertips and making her hands shake with ferocity. It was hitting her all at once that things just might be coming to a head.

_**"Promise me you'll never become a hero." **_

She gulped.

"_Okay._" Bakugou's voice filtered through. "_I'm going up to the third floor towards the plaza. You hide somewhere around here. When you hear gunfire, don't move._"

Jirou didn't respond to that, so Hamuro could only assume that she was nodding.

Uselessly kicking her legs in the air, Hamuro waited, like a sniper waiting for the all-clear, the order to fire, the call to action.

_**"Promise me, Mika." **_

** _Never forget._**

Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes.

_**"Do you think I could be a hero?" **_

** _"Figure it out on your own."_**

She breathed, resting her forehead against the cool metal of the vent.

_I'm sorry, mom._

"_Ready?_" Bakugou asked, though Hamuro doubted he cared about their answer.

"Yeah." Hamuro replied, fighting to suppress her shaking.

"_Whenever you are._" was Jirou's cool response. Hamuro envied how calm she sounded. "_Oh yeah, and Bakugou?_"

"_What now?_"

"_Be careful._"

Hamuro swallowed, hands clenching into fists as she fought not to whimper. Nerves were eating away at her insides, fear churning in her stomach like butterflies, and the breath she released was more uneven than a bumpy scenic back road.

This was happening, and it was happening right now.

"_Whatever._"

Whether she was ready or not.

_**BANG!**_

Showtime.

* * *

**Next chapter: The real action begins...**


	12. Friction: The Venture Pt2

**School has begun for me. Here's to hoping that it doesn't completely obliterate my writing schedule this time around!**

* * *

_**BANG!**_

For a single moment, Jirou, in her mind's eye, sees a civilian falling to the floor, dead and bleeding, but with a mental fortitude that she hadn't even realized she had up until this point, she swallowed harshly, pushed the thought aside for the time being, and dove into the nearest store.

The storefront had no windows, blanketing the room in darkness, so Jirou jerked to the side and pressed herself into the far corner of the store, thanking every deity she could think of that she'd chosen to wear dark clothing that day. The sudden spike in noise was near-instant, the commotion outside the store making Jirou's skin crawl. Voices could be heard shouting just behind the wall she was curled up against, along with the surge of shouting and movement out in the distant plaza where the civilian hostage group she'd seen was.

They shouldn't have to be so close to the action. They shouldn't have to be in the crossfire.

But what else could they do?

"What's going on over there!?" someone shouted, several footsteps pounding by her hiding spot, completely oblivious to her presence.

"_It's the kid from the loading docks!_" came the static reply. "_He shot at one of the guards stationed by the hostages! He missed, but bolted before anyone could grab him!_"

"Did nobody think to just shoot him?!"

"_Schrodinger specifically ordered us to capture him alive!_"

That was new.

Jirou felt something in her heart stutter, a white-hot fear shooting straight through her veins like fire burning through dry straw, and she felt herself fighting the sudden urge to act, to do something in the face of insurmountable odds as a dizzying stampede of footsteps roared past her hiding spot. She hadn't expected there to be so many guards concentrated in one single area. Then again, they were protecting something rather vital to their operation.

But then that begs the question.

_Why did they all leave so easily? _

"That doesn't bode well..." she mumbled to herself as the noise began to die down and move away, allowing her a chance to breathe as she fiddled with her headphones. "Hey, you guys there?"

"_Yep!_" Hamuro's voice filtered through the headset. "_I heard the shot. Everything okay, Jirou?_"

"Yeah, just..." she paused, her nerves still blazing as she drummed her fingers against the headset. "I think they all just up and left."

"_All of them? Really?_" Hamuro asked surprised, almost giddily. "_You're sure?_"

"Well," she tried, unsure. "No, I'm not, but... A lot of people just ran down the hall."

"_That means our plan's working!_" Hamuro exclaimed. "_You hear that, Bakugou? It's working!_"

"_I'm a little busy right now!_" Bakugou shouted harshly through the headset, the distant commotion in the background easily drowned out by his voice's natural volume.

"_Right._" Hamuro responded. "_Okay. Jirou, turn on your eye._"

With a long, suffering sigh, Jirou shoved her hands into her pockets, searching for the palm-sized ball. Her left hand easily curled around the metal sphere.

Her right, meanwhile, wrapped around something furry.

Jirou blinked, pausing in a moment of disbelief before she quickly pulled her pocket open wider, staring down at cream-colored fur and shiny black eyes.

She blinked again, stupefied. "Uh... Hamuro?"

"_Yeah?_"

"I, uh... I found your hamster in my pocket."

Hamuro was silent for a moment, a perfect stillness falling over them before rummaging sounds filled her ears, clicking and clattering against the vent walls as Hamuro searched for her beloved pet. "_Wha- When-... Haaaaaam!_"

Ham squeaked happily in Jirou's pocket, not even slightly guilty about being there and potentially giving his owner a heart attack. More clattering sounded, as if Hamuro was shoving her headphones back on. "_Ham, you can't do that! Jirou, tell Ham he can't do that!_"

"_Are you two f*cksticks done with your little chit chat yet?! F*cking h*ll!_"

Right. They had more pressing things to worry about.

Jirou found herself brushing her fingers against the USB sitting in her pocket along with Ham, the little hamster rubbing reassuringly against her hand, and it took her a moment of psyching herself out before she could bring herself to inch back towards the entrance, peering out into the empty halls. The mall had fallen into silence, the only signs of life being the far off shouts further away. Looking out into the hall, she found herself looking both ways, as if she was crossing a street, before she took off running, fumbling with the metal eye now in her hand.

"_Ah!_" Hamuro exclaimed. "_You're coming online!_"

The eye lit up, a soft purple glow emitting from the 'iris' of sorts before lighting up with a bright white, the camera inside flicking open. With a low, almost inaudible hum, the eye began to hover, clumsily, zigzagging around in the air before it reoriented itself in the air and began to float alongside Jirou.

"_And I'm on! Okay,_" she chirped aloud. "_Okay, okay, okay. Second floor, north wing, straight ahead of where you're going now._"

"Is that where this machine is?" Jirou asked, eyes flickering between the ground floor and the hall directly ahead of her.

"_Yeah. There are only two small staff only areas on the second floor connected by one tiny hallway, and one of them is dead ahead. From the looks of it, the rooms in that staff only area include storage closets, one security station, though I don't know if anybody uses it anymore, and a break room._"

"Which room was it in?"

"_It looked like the security room to me, with the computers and stuff._" Hamuro mused. "_Though, since that station isn't really used anymore, it's possible that the computers were moved or something. If that's true, then it's in the break room. The storage closets are too small, and probably don't have security cameras. Wow, this is weird._"

The eye continued to wobble in the air, fluttering around randomly as it tried its hardest to keep up with Jirou's sprint. "What is?"

"_Flying this thing. It's really hard to control._" Hamuro mumbled. "_I don't think they're meant to fly this fast._"

"Don't worry." Jirou said on reflex. "We're almost there."

The closer she got, the slower and quieter her steps became, the familiar feeling of paranoia crawling up her spine at every sound. Even her own footsteps were far too loud in her ears, reverberating against the walls like ping pong balls, and it almost felt as if her own face was being used as the ping pong paddle.

"They really all left...?" she muttered to herself, carefully walking towards and hallway in the wall between two stores. It was narrow and hard to notice, completely inconspicuous between the two brightly colored storefronts flanking it.

"_That's it, right there._" Hamuro confirmed. "_At the end of that little hallway is a door that will lead to the staff only area. The doors creak really loudly, so be ready._"

Jirou swallowed, swiveling around to check her surroundings before she carefully approached the hall, peering around the corner. The door she found at the end of the hallway was ominous, standing alone at the end of what was essentially a funnel leading up to whatever dangers lay behind it. It was far to quiet around it, no footsteps or voices or anything to be heard as Jirou slowly stepped into the hall, gulping loudly as she stared the door down, as if it was a villain that she needed to defeat. In her pocket, Ham rubbed harshly against her hip, pulling his head out of her pocket and staring up at the scene before them. Jirou wasn't sure how much he understood of what was going on, but for some reason, she found herself somewhat relaxing. Even if he was a rodent, his company was better than nothing.

Every step almost felt condemned, as if she was marching to her death, and yet, she found herself almost impatient, fighting to not rush the door and barrel through. She'd wasted too many seconds as it was. Seconds that could mean another civilian death. Seconds that could get Bakugou cornered. Seconds that could lead the villains straight to Hamuro.

It was somewhat irrational, but the thoughts were there, all the same.

Slowly wrapping her fingers around the handle, Jirou tried her best to steady her breathing, resting her forehead against the door as butterflies swarmed in her stomach. One part of her was eager to save as many people as possible, but the other was absolutely terrified of what face she might run directly into as soon as she pushed this thing open.

_Quit stalling!_

With a heavy breath and a firm nod, Jirou pushed the door open.

It screeched in protest, scraping against the floor as she steadily heaved it open. Light poured into the darkness, red emergency lights illuminating the continuous hallways spanning in seemingly every direction, sounds of unknown origin echoing through every corridor.

And yet, it was far too quiet.

Cautiously, Jirou pushed further in, stepping into the looming darkness with her heart in her throat. Shadows seemed to dance around every corner as if they were taunting her, laughing voiceless when she couldn't even hope to hear it.

Her jacks swayed uselessly.

The metal eye hovered in a moment later, pausing to look in every direction. "_Wow, it's really empty in here. Where is everybody?_"

And wasn't _that_ the question of the day?

"Something's not adding up." Jirou mumbled, her voice echoing back to her through the dark, empty halls.

"_What do you mean?_"

"With how this whole heist seems to be set up," Jirou swallowed nervously, a thin film of sweat coating her brow. "The villains have been completely banking on people not being able to use their quirks. If this machine is what's suppressing our quirks, then guarding it should be a top priority."

Hamuro was silent. Jirou's own breathing was the loudest thing she'd ever heard. "Why did the guards leave their posts so easily? Why is nobody _here?_"

Those questions had her shaking in her boots, the darkness around her almost suffocating. With a shaky breath, she took a tentative step forward, craning her neck to peer down every hall around her.

_It's too __**quiet. **_

"_You make a good point..._" Hamuro whispered nervously. "_W- What do you think, Bakugou? You're smart._"

…

Silence.

Jirou sucked in a harsh, unsteady breath as the radio silence stretched on. "_Bakugou? Are you there?_"

"Don't distract him." Jirou quickly cut in, because the silence was making her nervous and there was _no way he was down already._ "Remember, he's in the thick of things, right now. He'll call in when he can."

Hamuro hesitated, but sighed in defeat all the same. "_O- Okay._" she stuttered. "_If you're sure. Uh, the security room is straight ahead, a-a-and the break room is to your left, towards where the two staff only areas connect._"

"Alright." Jirou replied, feigning confident. "We don't know when the guards will come back, and when they do, they'll probably come through the other area, so I'll check the break room first, while I can."

"_Okay. Um, roger that. Uh- Oh!_"

"What?"

"_I think I can turn on the eye he has with him without activating its flight functions! It's quiet, and not too bright, so it shouldn't be a problem or anything. I- I- I'll check on him right now!_"

Jirou nodded numbly, even if the orange-haired girl couldn't see it. Ham snuggled up in her pocket, clicking comfortingly and she trudged boldly into the darkness, suspicions weighing on her shoulders and fears and concerns momentarily set aside.

Because she was a hero, d*mmit.

* * *

For lack of a better term, Aizawa was frustrated.

For the most part, he found himself ignoring the movement around him, instead staring down at Umineko's high school photo as if it would somehow give him all the answers they were waiting for. From where he sat, hunched over the stack of pictures and files that Tsukauchi had left for him to keep looking over, he could still hear Mic's voice over the commotion, loudly talking to Midnight and who Aizawa assumed was Vlad King, having been healed and returning to help in whatever ways he could. That, and he felt it necessary to keep an eye on his class.

A perfectly logical reason, honestly.

"Sensei!" a familiar voice called, Aizawa's gaze shooting up to meet Iida's. Despite his tense shoulders and the beads of sweat running down the side of his face, his expression was stern, with barely a quiver as he motioned towards the opening of the police tent, and it was times like this that he not only fully acknowledged the effects of being raised in a hero family, but the striking resemblance between the class representative and his brother. "Sensei, I believe that someone requested Kouda's assistance? I brought him here, just so you are aware!"

Bless this boy for his discipline and acknowledgment of authority. Aizawa nodded. "Thank you for letting me know."

Stuffing Umineko's files back into their folder, Aizawa stood, stretching as he did, and trudged out of the tent, his student by his side. Just outside, Present Mic was explaining something to Kouda, the pro looking somewhat pale as rats slowly began to congregate around their feet. In the sky, a few birds were circling the camp, not enough to raise eyebrows and gain suspicion, but enough for those aware of Kouda's quirk to notice.

Midnight appeared at Aizawa's side. "The police wanted to use Kouda's quirk for reconnaissance." she explained. "They're hoping that so long as Kouda stays outside the force field, then his quirk won't be affected and we'll be able to scout the building more freely."

Aizawa simply nodded along, silently watching as officers spoke softly with his quietest student. Iida was practically vibrating at his classmate's side, arm chopping at the air as he fought to not interrupt whatever Kouda was saying to his animal friends. Aizawa was sure that as soon as he was done, then Iida would be going off on one of the most encouraging tirades that the world would ever see.

"Oh yeah, by the way," Midnight suddenly said. "All Might and Endeavor are here."

Aizawa whipped around to face his colleague. "Just now?" he asked incredulously, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. Not sure what's taking them so long, but they'll be here any second."

As if summoned, two towering figures appeared over the crowd of heroes and emergency workers, all of them practically parting like the red sea as they scrambled out of the former and current number one heroes' path. Aizawa's frown deepened, only able to offer a skeptical glance. "And what good will they do in this particular situation?"

Midnight shrugged. "Right now, not much, but this whole situation has been nearly impossible to predict. If nothing else, they could help us plan."

He supposed that made sense.

With something akin to a groan, Aizawa and Midnight met the two heroes halfway, approaching them as they made their way through the sea of police tents. In the distance, more ambulances were lying in wait, both for more injured...

And more bodies.

Aizawa fought not to grimace.

"It's good to see you, Eraserhead! Midnight!" said All Might, hand raised in greeting. Endeavor simply crossed his arms, an intensity in his eyes matching that of when a powerful villain stood before him.

Aizawa sighed, turning back towards the main police tent. "Now's not the time for pleasantries." he chastised, ignoring the way Midnight rolled her eyes at him. While All Might rubbed at his scalp sheepishly, Aizawa barely caught Endeavor's sharp nod of approval.

"We ran into young Midoriya on our way here." All Might suddenly said, and Aizawa now had to fight to not groan at the mention of the problem child. "He told us about the situation with young Bakugou and young Jirou."

Aizawa didn't bother hiding his grimace this time.

Midnight spoke up before he could respond. "As far as we are aware, the villains haven't captured them. The civilian hostages should be our priority."

"Exactly." Aizawa quickly agreed. As stressed as the woman could make him, she definitely had her moments and this was one of them. All Might didn't look entirely pleased, but Endeavor accepted the situation with stride, following behind Midnight as she led him into the tent, Tsukauchi waiting for them.

A bony hand was suddenly gripping his shoulder, Aizawa glaring over his shoulder at All Might as he gave him a somber look. "I know you must be worried."

Aizawa frowned. "They're my students. Their safety is my responsibility."

_USJ, Beast's Forest..._

His responsibility, huh? Well, he's doing a bang-up job at that, clearly.

_The sniper attack, the city A earthquake, the All Might holiday incident..._

Aizawa grit his teeth. He really owed the Bakugou's' in particular' an apology.

He owed a lot of apologies.

_Attack after attack after attack-_

All Might's hum pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. "It'll be alright."

Aizawa glared at him unimpressed. All Might simply smiled. "Everything will be okay, you'll see. I am making you a promise!"

The silence between them was almost suffocating, this skinny, disheveled All Might giving him a thumbs up and grinning at him as if his words decided the fate of the universe, and Aizawa felt something dark festering in his stomach.

Swallowing his frustrated growl, he kept up his neutral mask as he gently batted All Might's hand away. "I've said this to Mic a thousand times and I'll say it to you. In hero work, it's dangerous to be so optimistic, especially now. You should know this. You've done it for much longer than I have."

With that, he didn't even bother to gauge All Might's reaction, instead joining the others in the police tent. Aizawa couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when he found them all huddled around the computer screens in the back of the tent, other officers pressing against one another to get a better look.

"Hey, Eraser?" Mic called without looking up. "You might want to see this."

Aizawa felt his heart drop. "Which one?"

"Guess." Midnight said plainly.

Endeavor snorted. "I'm honestly not surprised. I haven't worked with the kid for that long, but he seems to have a tendency for jumping headfirst into trouble."

_You have no idea, _Aizawa thought ruefully. "What did Bakugou do this time?"

Mic's face stayed impressively blank. "He ran out into the plaza with all the guards and hostages and fired a gun."

_This f*cking kid. _

He heard All Might sputter somewhere behind him. "_Why?_"

"_It's hard to tell,_" Aizawa thought aloud, looking over Midnight's shoulder to see several guards appearing and disappearing as they ran across the screen and out of sight. "_But I guarantee you he has a plan of some kind._"

Not that he's particularly _happy_ with Bakugou's actions, but he knows that the kid isn't going to do something this moronic without a d*mn good reason, and it likely had something to do with Jirou, considering that she was completely out of sight.

Not that it mattered. Whatever she was up to, Aizawa doubted that he'd be any more pleased with it.

"This d*mn brat." Endeavor muttered under his breath.

_Agreed. _

"Do you think he's aware of the machine?" Tsukauchi suddenly questioned.

Aizawa, Mic, and Midnight all stare at him simultaneously, consideration flashing across their faces. Midnight looked back at Aizawa. "They were probably involved with the security breach. I know I wouldn't be surprised."

"Do you think they know where it is?" Present Mic questioned.

Aizawa sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. His head was killing him, all of a sudden. "If they had access to one of the security stations, they more than likely have a location."

"Stop for a second." Endeavor barked in frustration. "What machine? Explain."

"...Right." Tsukauchi sighed, slightly embarrassed. "You there, bring up all footage of the suppressor."

In the blink of an eye, the machine was on the screen, a large metal structure with green rims of light that bathed the room in a greenish hue. It was vaguely wedding cake-shaped, of all things, no taller than a hundred and twenty centimeters and surrounded by disconnected computer monitors and wires.

"This," Tsukauchi explained. "Is what we believe to be responsible for the force field around the mall. Anyone inside of it cannot use their quirks."

"That, we've been debriefed on." Endeavor huffed. "What's been done about this so far?"

"We're still gathering information." Tsukauchi sighed. "We're using a student's quirk to use animals for scouting, specifically in the east and west wings of the building. Thanks to a security leak, most likely thanks to Aizawa's two missing students, we have the north wing all but mapped out."

"We know for sure that the suppressor machine is in the north wing." Present Mic pointed out. "I get needing to know about how many villains we're dealing with, or at least an estimate, but why do we still need such a thorough investigation of the other wings?"

"Simple." Tsukauchi sighed. "That's where the rest of the hostages are."

The heroes blanched.

_Right. There's more than just the crowd in the plaza. _

"According to our sources, there are still enough people missing that there could be at least three or four groups of civilians like this one in the building's central plaza being held hostage in the other two wings. Our current reconnaissance efforts are in order to figure out their exact locations and their current wellbeing, among other things."

There was something in Tsukauchi's tone that had Aizawa's skin crawling, a deepness in his frown and a contortion in his brow that had that dark festering in his stomach growing ice cold.

"Did something happen, Naomasa?" All Might asked, and right, they're buddies.

Tsukauchi clicked his tongue, an almost haunted look in his eyes. We just received a written message from the villains and photos of five more civilian casualties."

It was like a slap in the face. Make that five.

The first civilian death had been a performance, that b*stard Schrodinger parading around like a clown in a circus putting on a show for his horrified audience. He'd made a point of emphasizing the heroes' helplessness, in making them look like fools with all his 'demands', whether he made any or not, as he shot down an innocent man in cold blood.

Now, apparently, five more were dead. No preamble, no warning, no showboating. Just, 'oh, they're dead now.'

In a way, that seemed even more of a spit in the face to the heroes, the fact that they're all right here while the villains were literally doing whatever the f*ck they wanted, and they _didn't even know. _

"The villains have at least been..._'kind'_ enough to hand over the bodies." Tsukauchi said solemnly. "All six bodies have been recovered."

A fist slamming against a table startled all of them, wide eyes darting over to where Endeavor was literally shaking. "Then _why_ haven't we _done_ anything yet!?"

"Like I said, we still need to scout the other wings."

"And just sit here with our thumbs up our a*ses while those villains parade around as they please!? We need to infiltrate!"

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Tsukauchi asked heatedly.

The fire of Endeavor's costume slightly dimmed at that, his expression a twisted, frustrated grimace that Aizawa found himself relating to on a personal level.

"He's right." Aizawa sighed. "Without our quirks, we'd all be gunned down easily, and even if that wasn't an issue, if we don't know where the civilians are all congregated and go charging in recklessly, someone is bound to get hurt, or worse."

His eyes suddenly burned. Fishing for his eye drops, Aizawa let his gaze harden as it swept over his company. "Right now, the villains, for whatever reason, are trying to make heroes look bad in the process of this whole operation. If we rush in and play into their hands, people will die and we'll only be assisting them."

Taking a moment to put in his eye drops, he basked in the silence that fell over them, a rarity these days from Mic's yelling to All Might's laughing and everything in between. Blinking the dryness out of his eyes, he turned to face the others with a conviction he didn't even know he still had.

"Step one," he said. "Reconnaissance. Get whatever information we can on the uncharted wings. Step two, infiltrate. Our goal will be to take out the suppressor, most likely from the inside." With a deep, shaky breath, he crossed his arms and spoke with a confidence and bravado fitting for every hero in that tent. "And then, step three. _Attack._"

* * *

Any other day, Midoriya might not have even batted an eye at the linings of trees that surrounded the mall, carefully cutting off the well-kept grounds around the mall from the rest of the city. The strips of 'forest' were fairly thin and far enough from the mall to be outside the force field in most areas, but the thicket was still enough to conceal a few small people and allow for quick travel without being noticed. So long as they were slow and quiet, they wouldn't be noticed.

Midoriya had never had so much trouble keeping his cool, terrified that he might actually jump the gun and make a beeline for the mall. Kirishima seemed to be in the same boat, instead depending on Asui to keep him under control. "Don't get ahead of yourselves." she told them, a strange glint in her normally vacant eyes.

The east wing came into view in no time, the barest glint of weaponry in the sunlight hovering around the roof as the guards patrolled. Midoriya had to crane his neck to see it clearly, raising his hand to block out the sun assaulting his vision, while Kirishima and Asui kept low, watching the building intently.

"Okay, how are we doing this?" Kirishima asked, slamming his fists together.

Midoriya exhaled loudly. "I'm thinking that if Asui can lift me high enough with her tongue, I can use my quirk to attack them from a distance, and she can move me out of the way when they fire back. Kirishima, you're job will be to protect Asui. From there, we'll retreat for a short period to regroup, but if we want to keep their attention, we'll have to keep attacking them."

"Right." Kirishima nodded. "Should we stay in the trees, or...?"

"I say we get as close as possible the first time." said Midoriya. "That way, it'll cause the most damage and really get their attention. We can try to stay in the trees a little bit after that, but we can't run away. They can't notice the other group before they short out the north wing's power, especially if they end up being more exposed than us."

Kirishima nodded sagely, Asui staring up at the building blankly. Midoriya quickly pulled out his phone, checking his texts just as it buzzed in his hand. A thumbs up emoji from Sero was all they needed.

With a shaky breath, the freckled teen steeled himself. "You guys ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Yep."

"Okay." he breathed. "Let's go!"

With no room for hesitation, Midoriya bolted out into the open, Asui and Kirishima right behind him. Asui's tongue was already wrapping around his waist, One For All humming through his veins like a steady rhythm, a second pulse. The greenette soon found himself thrust into the air, green lightning crackling along his skin and coating his body in a soft light. There were jerks of movement in the distance, figures on the roof already aware of the young hero suddenly appearing in the air. With a deep breath, his very person left trustingly in Asui's hands, he shot his arms forward, his left bracing his right, and pulled his middle finger back for a flick.

Throwing a punch would be too dangerous. If the roof collapsed, that would lead to casualties, and there was no way he would allow that to happen if he could help it.

"_Delaware..._" He could feel the power of his quirk building in his finger, lines of glowing magenta erupting along his skin. "_SMASH!_"

He didn't even flinch at the familiar shot of agony that ran through his hand as the massive pressure wave blasted past the force field and washed over the roof, guards, weapons, and loose chunks of the building sent flying back upon impact. Further off, along the other wings, there was already activity, villains recovering from their shock to step in and scare whatever heroes were foolish enough to attack. Midoriya was already being yanked back down and into the treeline as the first shots went off.

He hit the ground a little harder than Asui had probably intended, but Kirishima was already diving on top of her as Midoriya scurried behind a tree. Bullets rained down on them like fire and brimstone, incomprehensible shouting echoing through the open air.

"Yeah, Aizawa's gonna be on us any minute now!" Kirishima yelled above the gunfire. "I guarantee it!"

"That's good!" Midoriya reassured him. "The suppressor machine was quickly plugged into the building's electricity! Once the power's out, it should be, too! That will give the heroes an opening for infiltration while everyone's distracted with us! Plus, they'll already have Kacchan and Jirou fighting inside!"

It was a gamble, but if the villains planned to hold back a hero raid, they'd need all the power they could get. However, they couldn't guard all three wings equally, since too many villains would cause problems with staying low until the heist itself even started. They were dealing with a large organization, but not an army.

Gunshots began to slow down, the spray of ammo lodging into trees far away from where they were holing up. "They've lost sight of us." Asui surmised.

"Send me back up." Midoriya all but commanded. "Stay in the treeline this time."

"Cover your head. I'd hate if I accidentally smashed your head against a thick branch or something."

"Right." He was surging upward a moment later, arms wrapped over his head as he broke through the treeline and was back in the clear air, the skin on his arms scraped and cut from being roughly thrown through the branches. He was already being jerked to the side before he could properly orient himself.

Before he could overthink it, he pulled back his index finger and flicked again, the pressure wave cutting through the air like a butcher knife. The whiplash of Asui yanking him to the side and down made his head spin, but it wasn't enough to twist and blur his view of the roof. Guards were already starting to congregate at the edges of the east wing, guns blazing as they prepared for what they might have believed was an expected raid by the heroes. Far in the distance, he could make out the few west wing guards making their way over, quickly being replaced by villains from inside, but most of the reinforcements were coming from the north, just as they'd been hoping.

A part of Midoriya was questioning why that was easier than he'd anticipated.

Soon, he was thrown back into the trees, Asui this time saving him from a harsh landing a gently tossing him behind another tree.

"How much more of this?" Kirishima asked over the noise, cracks appearing his back where bullets were consistently pounding against his hardened skin.

"However much it takes for the others to execute the plan!" Midoriya responded, taking a moment to ground himself amidst the chaos suddenly surrounding them. "I'd say one more, maybe two, and then the real battle will begin!"

Kirishima grinned, brimming with confidence and belief and _trust,_ and Midoriya clung to it like a lifeline, a safety net under the thin tightrope he was walking. His heart pounding against his chest, he dug his uninjured fingers into the dirt, a fire burning in his eyes as he clenched his bruising hand, soaking in the pain that shot through his fist at the movement. He reveled in it, because this was what it took to save those who needed it most, to break yourself so that others wouldn't hurt, to throw yourself into danger, where you don't belong, to act when no one else will.

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, a sickly green monster made of sludge rose out of the sewers like an angel of death.

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, a little girl was led away to suffer in silence.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, they all just watched.

The very idea of seeing himself among those faces scared him more than anything.

* * *

It had only been after he'd fired that he realized that maybe being on the third floor was actually a bad idea.

Teeth clenched, Bakugou kept his head low and sprinted down the hall with the power and intensity of an Olympic runner, the echoing shouts of armed villains chasing after him. He hissed as he skidded to a halt, pressing himself against a pillar and curling into himself as bullets pounded against it and whizzed by his ears. The fact that there was no other cover other than these stupid pillars and some glass panels was very quickly becoming a problem.

He'd never felt this cornered in his life.

Thinking back to when he'd bolted, he'd gone right, so he was sure he was somewhere in the west wing now. Off in the distance, he could still hear the cries of terrified civilians, huddled together in fear of the villains' aggression turning on them. Everything was reverberating against the empty walls, a cacophony of sound from every direction meshing together like a collage, a kindergartener's art project, and suddenly, he could hardly tell what direction anything was coming from other than the spray of lead directly around him.

Daring to look out into the spacious halls, his eyes caught the swaying mall decor hanging from the ceiling, a flurry of butterflies and flowers in celebration of the blooming cherry blossoms. The large ornaments sparkled in the light, glistening from where they were hung, and above all of it was a massive bulb, some kind of sun or moon or whatever the f*ck it was, acting as a colorless, boring centerpiece for the pretentious display suspended in the air.

Glancing behind him, he could see a group of guards making their way up the stairs to the third floor. Even if they didn't immediately mow him down, he was trapped by the entire f*cking firing squad below, effectively holding him in place for the other guards to grab him. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, and if he just stood there and took it, he might as well surrender.

Like h*ll.

The precision and accuracy that came with honing in his quirk for so many years was his only saving grace as he sho at the ceiling, around where the bulb was being held, until it crumbled under the bulb's weight and sent the whole thing plummeting to the floor, everything else coming down with it. Bakugou didn't even take the time to watch his handiwork as he bolted out of his hiding spot and ran for it, ignoring the surprised and frustrated shouts behind him.

Enraged, feral roaring came up behind him, and Bakugou found himself glancing behind himself on instinct as two guards reached the third floor and raised their guns. There was a moment where time slowed down, where the explosive teen found himself literally staring down the barrel as he blindly raced forward, as if he could actually outrun a bullet. Best-case scenario, they'd shoot him in the arm, and if they still somehow lost his trail, he'd likely be unable to use it and thus useless, quirk or not quirk. More likely, he was about to have his leg shot out from under him.

Or better yet, he was about to die.

There was a moment where his life actually flashed before his eyes, a sudden slideshow slapping him across the face with every success and failure he'd experienced and endured. Thinking back, he suddenly realized with startling clarity how little he actually regretted.

Being a d*ck to Deku? Maybe. Not getting to apologize for it? Probably. Not reaching number one? Yeah. All Might's retirement? Absolutely.

He briefly wished that he'd gotten to talk to his parents one more time. Maybe tell his merry band of morons to take better care of themselves. He still often wondered why he even cared.

Keeping his head low and gritting his teeth, Bakugou faced forward and kept running, because the idea of lying down and surrendering left an acrid, bitter taste in his mouth, like biting into an orange peel or drinking liquid soap. A part of him was tense like a spring, waiting for the spike of pain to bloom in his back or to sear through a joint. H*ll, maybe there would just be a split second of fire in his skull and then nothing. What was he supposed to do about it?

Hope for the best, he guessed.

"DON'T SHOOT!"

He barely even had a chance to comprehend everything that had run through his mind within those few seconds before another guard was tripping up the stairs, grabbing the closest guard's arm and shoving him just as he fired, the bullet harmlessly lodging itself into a nearby wall. The other paused, flinching at the sudden, unexpected command.

Frankly, Bakugou hadn't been expecting it, either.

With a near-hysterical laugh, the ash blonde dashed forward with renewed vigor, the guard's yelling nothing more than a string of sounds meant to be some kind of humanly comprehensible language as he pulled his attention away from the conflict behind him. At this point, there was nothing he could do about them shooting him, and it seemed like someone didn't want that to happen.

Honestly, that should have raised multiple red flags in his mind, but at the moment, he had more pressing matters to worry about.

Such as the third floor hall coming to an end.

Ahead of him, the end of the pathway, carefully guarded by glass panels for the snot-nosed brats stupid enough to tip over the edge, overlooked the second and ground floors below, usually teaming with extras, crowds flowing through the open spaces for a leisurely day to themselves or with loved ones.

Right now, all Bakugou saw was an incoming sheer drop.

To his left was another staircase, or maybe it was an escalator. He couldn't tell from here, but the couple of guards tearing up it was a bit more important than that.

Guards with belts.

_Quirk users,_ he realized, and suddenly, he found himself pushing himself to run faster, to keep moving, to not falter, to not hesitate.

Picking fights with people whose quirks were unknown wasn't worth the risk when he was quirkless. Once the heat returns to his palms and his calloused skin comes crackling back to life, he'll be more than happy to come back around and throw hands, but right now, the last thing he wanted was to stupidly throw himself into the hands of the villains.

So he did the next best thing.

He _jumped. _

Someone yelled in shock as his foot dug into the top of the panel and he leaped into the open air. For a split second, it was like he's flying again, like his quirk came back to life and he was about to soar, even as gravity began to take effect. Below him, the second floor was opened up, like a walkway with railings over the ground floor where people could look down at whatever schmucks were below them, or whatever the h*ll its architectural purpose was.

Either way, what it boiled down to was that if Bakugou didn't grab that railing, he was about to land a two-story drop.

He knew he could probably take it. If he could handle getting kneed in the jaw and sent flying into a building by _All Might,_ a fall from this height wouldn't kill him, unless he somehow landed headfirst. However, the off-chance of landing wrong and injuring himself now of _all_ times was definitely not worth the risk. He'd f*cked up landings before, after all.

Blindly reaching out, his hands curling tightly around the bottom railing, his body's momentum slamming him into the side of the walkway and sending pinpricks of pain running through his now sore shoulders. Now dangling in the air, he once again glanced behind him, grinning as the guards practically toppled over each other in order to reach him. Others still on the second floor were scrambling for the walkway, so Bakugou wasted no time in dropping to the ground floor and taking off again.

Considering how there was no one in the entirety of the north wing, there was likely another hostage group somewhere around here, if they weren't all in the east, and if Bakugou could avoid bringing the action right to them, that would probably be for the best. Having them get in his way, and by extension, the line of fire, would cause way more problems than it was worth.

He felt something in his pocket rumble, Bakugou fishing around for it and pulling out that d*mn 'eye' camera thing that Orange had been so proud of. Somewhere in the back of his frazzled mind, he heard a distant cheer, nearly forgotten in the chaos as he'd all but run for his life.

"_-e's okay!_" he heard the kid screeching. "_Good! Okay, good! Good! Can you hear me, Bakugou?_"

"This better be important!" he snapped, not even bothering to look behind him again.

"_O- Okay! Uh, hold the eye out in front of you! If I know where you are, I can help you find somewhere to hide!_"

"I have it under control! Worry about Ears!"

"_I'm fine, for now._" Earlobes unhelpfully cut in. "_I've almost got it, actually. You should really start thinking about escaping._"

Before Bakugou could go off on whatever tirade was on the tip of his tongue, he swallowed hard and held the metal ball out as he ran. Nothing but static filled his ears for a solid few seconds. "_...Okay. Okay! You're in the west wing, then! Let me see._"

There was a flurry of tapping and rustling as the kid raised her camera goggles to look whatever schematics she had in front of her. "_Uh... Oh! Um, you're near the food court, right?_"

"How the f*ck should I know!?" he shouted. It wasn't like he could stop and check.

"_Right! Uh, it's not on these schematics, but there should be another big corridor nearby, the next turn you make! It was meant to be a big store for larger chains, but it's currently being renovated for more shops or another food court for more brands, or maybe a market? I don't know! They're still talking about it! Either way, it's big, no one uses it, and it's pretty deep in the building! There's lots of room for maneuvering!_"

A large store for major chains? This deep in the mall? That didn't make any sense.

"The architecture in this place is nonsensical at best! F*cking stupid! Tell whoever was in charge of designing this place that it's a sh*thole!"

"_Er-... Actually, a distant cousin of mine-_"

"Perfect! Make sure you tell 'em!"

Turning the corner, Bakugou saw it almost immediately, a pathway off to the side with an unkempt, almost rundown look to it, covered in plastic wraps and tape. It was inconspicuous enough that it wasn't immediately noticeable, but him disappearing would also raise eyebrows, considering that the rest of the west wing was a straight shot forward to the food court.

Where he could just barely see a hint of a crowd.

_Civilians. _

Orange's corridor, it was, then.

Bakugou quickly ducked into the corridor, running cautiously into the dimly lit hall. Slipping around a corner, he listened as several pairs of footsteps came around the corner outside, a clattering sound that filled the otherwise oppressing silence. There was shouting soon after, several villains splitting up to search the nearby stores, and Bakugou highly doubted that they were brain dead enough to not eventually check in here. So long as Earlobes pulled through on her end, they'd have their quirks back in no time, so the least he could do was hope for the best.

Even so, he couldn't help but stop for a second, leaning his head against the wall and shove his hands into his pockets, and suddenly, he felt as if he could collapse at any moment, greedily sucking in air as if he'd been suffocating and fighting not to wince at the soreness creeping through his body. He'd lost track of time a long time ago, but it almost felt as if they'd all been stuck in there for days.

_Focus. It's not over yet. _

Even as the thought entered his mind, a voice in the back of his head screaming in righteous fury over such an act of weakness as stopping to rest, his fingers somehow ended up curled around something in his pocket, his brows furrowing as he pulled it out and stared at the object now sitting comfortably in his palm.

A bracelet.

_"It's a friendship bracelet. I know it's not much, but consider it..., I don't know, a peace offering of sorts?"_

Right.

It felt like it was ages ago since Pinky had shoved this thing into his hand, completely unafraid of the then deadly weapon of mass destruction that she'd literally been aiming at her face. She'd acted as if somehow, this little trinket, this piece of garbage would be enough to make up for looking through and breaking his stuff like the dolts they were.

At least he was given a break from their incessant shrieking.

He likes to think he would have known if anything happened to them.

Maybe it was how tired he was, or maybe he left a few brain cells back in that loading dock, or maybe he's about to f*cking die, but slowly, with jerky movements and a scowl that could melt steel, he found himself sliding the stupid bracelet on. It actually didn't look have bad with what was left of his jacket, proving that at least one of his idiots had a decent concept of color theory, and the three charms, he had to admit, were actually decent choices.

Call him crazy, but he actually kinda liked it.

He was definitely delirious from exhaustion, whatever the f*ck that meant.

With that, he quickly pushed deeper into the corridor, his hurried steps light and nimble.

* * *

Her echoing footsteps were starting to get to her, like an incessant pounding against her skull slowly driving her insane. And yet, the writhing sense of urgency setting her nerves aflame almost had her running blindly into the dark, caution thrown to the wind in her haste. Her hand resting against the wall, Jirou could do nothing but fight to control her breathing and walk forward.

The faded red glow of the emergency lights added a whole new sense of danger to the whole situation, like a scene straight out of a horror movie, glimmering off of the exposed pipes lining the ceiling. Jirou was sure it was just her imagination, but she could have sworn she heard water dripping on the ground with an ominous plop.

"You guys still there?" Jirou asked cautiously, cringing at the way her voice carried through the empty hall.

"_Uh-huh!_" Hamuro responded quickly, an artificial cheer in her voice. "_Is everyone okay?_"

"_You f*ckers better be._" Bakugou grumbled. "_F*ck._"

"Is everything good on your end, Blast? You disappeared on us for a moment there."

"_Shut it._" he growled. "_Focus on that d*mn machine. I've made some distance, but I'm sure a few of 'em will be on my a*s again in no time flat._"

Jirou bit her lip, but kept her mouth shut as a door appeared on the wall to her right. It was almost completely inconspicuous, despite the lack of any other doors visible down this hall, and yet, Jirou's eyes were drawn to it almost immediately. By her side, Hamuro's 'eye' locked onto it as well. With a heavy, shaky breath, Jirou approached it, fighting the tremors running through her hands as she stared it down, like a villain grinning down at her worn, beaten form at the height of a battle.

"_That's the break room._" Hamuro muttered, almost in reverence.

Jirou gulped. "I figured as much."

Hamuro just hummed in response, Jirou staring up at the door as if it would jump out and bite her. She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt so nervous about opening it, but it almost felt like performance anxiety, when the curtains opened and the crowds cheered in a deafening cacophony of unrelenting noise.

But it was _quiet. _

In her pocket, Ham rubbed against her hip, letting out a soft, soothing clicking sound.

"Okay." she mumbled to herself, lifting her hand and fighting to calm her breathing. Her fingers barely grazed the door handle.

"_WAIT!_" Hamuro shouted, and Jirou had never felt her heart leap so high into her throat. She leaped back, pulling her hand away as if she'd touched a hot stove.

"What?!" Jirou wheezed, trying to regain the breath stolen from her lungs.

The eye hovered next to the door, the sound of a camera adjusting and zooming in buzzing against Jirou's ear. "_Look around the door frame. You seem 'em?_"

Jirou blinked, her eyes darting around the frame. Now that her attention was brought to it, she noticed them immediately, two small devices sitting parallel to each other. They were at about Jirou's eye level, slick, black, and somehow stuck to the wall, and each of them had a little white light facing towards each other.

"What are those?" Jirou found herself asking, her eyes falling to another pair of the devices down at her feet.

"_My guess,_" Hamuro breathed, also apparently catching her breath. "_Is that they're sensors of some kind. Either heat or movement._"

"A booby trap?" Jirou mumbled.

So this was the right room, then, right?

"_Just be sure to not pass through them._" Hamuro hummed. "_The door handle should be okay. If not, all you have to do is plug Tsar Bomba in somewhere and it'll do the rest._"

Jirou nodded numbly, her trembling hand once again reaching for the door handle. Her fingers tentatively curled around it, squeezing tight enough to turn her hand white as she pushed the door and let it slowly swing open with an ear-grating creaking sound. For a solid few seconds, she simply stood there, staring into the room and waiting for something to happen, for someone to jump at her, for something to go wrong.

Once again, silence was her answer.

Jirou carefully ducked under the devices, mindful of the matching pair at her feet, and slipped into the room. It was nothing special, all things considered, with a simple rug two worn couches, and a potted plant as its only decor. The pale yellow walls were faded, the paint chipping, and the kitchen area in the back was dusty from lack of use. On the other side of the room, several computer monitors and a couple actual desktop units were left in a cluttered pile, all shoved into a corner and seemingly forgotten. The room itself was dark, save for the greenish hue, and for whatever reason, Jirou felt apprehensive about turning the lights on.

And there, in the middle of the room, where the green glow was emanating from, stood a strange-looking machine.

"_There it is..._" Hamuro whispered in awe, while Jirou found herself speechless. Hamuro's 'eye' hovered around the machine, looking it over from top to bottom. "_I don't see any USB ports, or an off switch, which would have made this a lot easier, but there's desktop computers here, so it shouldn't be a problem._"

"_About time you found that stupid thing._" Bakugou suddenly piped in. "_Hurry and get that sh*t over with. We've got villains to kill._"

Jirou shook herself out of her trance, pulling the USB out of her pocket. It easily fit in her palm, a harmless piece of plastic with nothing but a keychain and English words scribbled out in sharpie that apparently held unspeakable technological power. Ham squirmed around in her pocket, still clicking at her. He almost seemed urgent.

"Right." she muttered. "Let's finish this."

* * *

Considering how on edge he was getting, it didn't surprise him all that much that he was starting to notice things that he hadn't before.

Aizawa had been running Endeavor through what they knew about Umineko when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It was barely anything, just as easily a large insect of some kind as anything else, but over the years, he'd slowly been learning that sometimes, your hunches weren't wrong.

With a long, groaning sigh, Aizawa wordlessly stacked the papers back together and slid them over to Endeavor. "Feel free to look the rest over in your own time. I need some fresh air."

With that, he abruptly stood, ignoring the wary glare the flame hero was giving him as he slowly strode out of the tent, stretching his throbbing back and cracking his aching neck.

The rustling behind him was more obvious now, even though it was barely noticeable. Nobody else in the tent had caught on to it yet, all still completely engrossed in what they were doing to be paying attention to what was effectively nothing but open air.

Honestly, Aizawa wasn't sure if he'd taught his students too well or not well enough.

With reflexes that surprised even himself, Aizawa whipped around at lightning speed, capture weapon surging forward towards the table, where a floating tank top and pair of shorts were inconspicuously hiding. Hagakure shrieked in surprise as the capture tape coiled around her, Aizawa yanking her out of the tent a little too harshly as he stared down into what he assumed was where her eyes were, his own blazing.

"Care to explain exactly what you were doing?" he asked, his voice a low growl from all the stress of that day culminating into one singular moment. He could see her face, but Hagakure was shaking in his grip.

"S- S- Sensei." she stuttered. "How did you-... I mean-"

"How did I know you were there?" he drawled. "It's simple. I'm your teacher. I've been with you in training and fieldwork alike, watching you all grow. I'm more aware of your presence than you might think."

She gulped loudly, not even trying to pull away as she shrunk back from Aizawa's blood-red gaze. "I answered you're question." he said. "Now it's your turn. Explain what you were doing here."

"I-..." she stammered, whimpering. "We- I- I-..."

A loud whistle pulled his attention away from his trembling student, Aizawa frowning deeply as two of Vlad King's students approached them, one with the most sh*t-eating grin he'd ever seen and the other with a more stern expression barely masking her uncertainty. At this point, Aizawa had all but forgotten that they had an audience, curious faces poking out from inside of the police tent.

Off in the distance, there was the sudden sound of gunfire.

Vlad King's student, Monoma, huffed haughtily. "So, I take that you already know about class 1-A going off to infiltrate the mall by themselves?"

Something in Aizawa _snapped. _"_**WHAT?**_"

* * *

It was do or die, now or never.

"You guys ready for this?" Sero grinned, pearly whites glimmering in the sunlight.

"As I'll ever be!" Uraraka cheered, Todoroki nodding along.

A wobbly smirk on his face, Kaminari stared up at the building as gunfire sounded off, loud enough that he was sure the pros would come running any second now. From what Midoriya had said, he was expecting on that, hoping that they'd know to split up between wings and attack from multiple angles. That way, there would be too many heroes to fight off and the more guards distracted, the less around the hostages and the more time the heroes had to get them out unharmed. For the guards that stayed behind, Midoriya was banking on Bakugou and Jirou taking care of the rest from inside.

His smile was already weak, but it wavered at the thought.

He'd been ecstatic to hear Bakugou's voice, happier about it than he thought he ever would be, and Jirou's confirmed safety had doubled his euphoria, but a lot could happen in such a short time. If something had already happened to either of them, if they were too late...

He refused to think about it.

"Look alive, Kami." Sero's voice cut through his awareness, pulling his attention to his three classmates. The north wing was already all but abandoned, the opening they were waiting for. "Give me the disk."

"Right." Almost in a trance-like state, he tossed the disk to Sero, a grin still firmly on the tape quirk user's face as he easily plucked it out of the air.

"You guys ready?" Sero asked, tape firmly stuck to the front of the disk.

"Go for it." Todoroki responded simply, frost already building along his right side. Uraraka had her fingers pressed together, pinpricks of pink light and a faint ring accompanying it. Swallowing harshly, Kaminari let electricity begin to build in his body, golden streaks of lightning running along his skin. With a quick _swish,_ Sero sent the disk flying, spiraling through the air as it careened towards the outermost wall of the north wing of the mall.

With a satisfying click, the disk stuck easily to the wall, Sero pulling his tape back and leaping out of the way as a path of ice ran along the ground towards Kaminari's target. Kaminari was already pointing, the sounds of gunfire sending his nerves into overdrive as his heartbeat wildly against his ribcage.

_Do or die. _

The ice melted quickly as Uraraka slapped Todoroki's and Sero's shoulders, both of them gently floating into the air as Kaminari stepped onto the wet patch of grass where Todoroki had been a moment ago. There was a terror thrumming through his spine, a fear that had his knees nearly buckling as all the pressure in the entire world suddenly came toppling down on him.

_Now or never. _

Electricity was already running through the ground, bolts of golden energy eating away at the grass and leaving ember and smoke trails behind. He could already feel his thoughts becoming muddled, a familiar fogginess that left him a jittery, thoughtless mess, but he pushed back his worries, for the time being, crouching low to the ground and digging his hands into the soil.

"Indiscriminate Discharge..." Blinding, destructive power erupted from his body, a flash of ultimate power surging forward through the ground like a torpedo. "TWO MILLION VOLTS!"

For a moment, all he saw was white, the world falling away into an incomprehensible nothingness that he couldn't even hope to grasp. Muddied thoughts were a swirling, festering mess in his fried brain, as a strange sound filled the air, like something being electrocuted to the point of exploding, and then it was nothing but a clusterf*ck of noise. Something gripped his shoulder, but pulled away a second after as if it had been burned, like when Kaminari had slapped his hand onto a hot stove for the first time. He remembered it hurting, but he couldn't quite remember why. He couldn't remember why he'd thought of it in the first place.

"Kami!" a voice called. A broad grin. "You did it, Kami! The entire wing's electricity went down!"

That was good, right? Yeah, take away the electricity. He did that. He was supposed to.

"Wheeeyy~" was all he could manage, his face numb. The hands on him, hands, that's what they were, felt firmer, more sure, less in pain.

The world fell away, going oddly quiet around him, but he simply stood where he was, because he could do that. Standing wasn't so bad. Hands were still on him, tight, but not painful. It was cold, but also warm. There was something in front of him, but he couldn't quite make it out, nor could he quite figure out why the people around him were suddenly shouting.

In his hazy mind, in the brief moments of clarity that flickered in and out of his fried state, he vaguely wondered why the force field was still there.


	13. Subduction: The Downfall

**Disclaimer: idk how to technology, but that's okay. lol**

* * *

Ashido fought to suppress her grin when the sound of thunder cracked through the air, electricity lighting up the furthest corner of the mall. The spray of sparks that followed had heroes scrambling, shouting amongst each other about scouting the damage, searching for an opening, an _opportunity- _

Seconds ticked by, gunfire continued on, the shouting never reached the excited crescendo that they'd been anticipating.

Nobody took the opportunity.

Because there_ was no opportunity. _

"What...?" Ashido muttered to herself, staring in disbelief at the thin, barely-visible dome where quirks were canceled out.

It didn't even _flicker. _

_Why was it still there?! _

A tremor running through her body, Ashido numbly approached the force field, her eyes transfixed on the ground as she stepped through it, standing directly by the border and staring down at her hands in open shock.

Not even a single drop of acid dripped from her fingertips.

_**Why was it still there?! **_

She leaped back as if dodging an attack, frustrated tears building in her eyes as every implication slammed into her all at once.

The civilians were still in danger.

Her friends were still in danger.

The villains still had the power.

The villains still had control.

_The villains could do whatever they wanted in retaliation. _

_ **And the heroes were helpless. **_

"Um... A- Ashido?" a familiar, quivering voice called, and for a moment, Ashido didn't recognize anything or anyone around her, in a complete daze at their blatant failure, and she couldn't understand why.

Why didn't it work?

_Had Midoriya been wrong? _

Ashido's throat suddenly felt dry, swallowing painfully as she turned to face whoever had called her. She knew her expression wasn't exactly the spitting image of confidence, but everything was seemingly falling apart within a single minute's worth of time and _she didn't know what to do. _

She barely recognized the space of nothingness that she was met with, her brain misfiring on all cylinders and words jumbling together in a tangled mess that she couldn't quite decipher as a comprehensible language. Recognition came slowly, the light returning to her eyes a moment later as she identified her invisible classmate.

And her teacher.

Ashido _paled. _

Furious red eyes were glaring down at her with enough power to melt the ground she was standing on faster than her acid ever could. His hair was billowing around his head like a halo of death, his capture weapon hovering ominously around his person, and Ashido realized all at once that this was easily the angriest that she had ever seen their teacher get.

"Ashido," his voice rumbled dangerously, like a volcano about to erupt. "You have exactly five seconds to tell me where Midoriya is right now. If you lie to me or do not comply, you and your classmates will be facing consequences far worst than just expulsion. Do I make myself clear?"

"Se-... S- S- Sensei-"

"_Do I make myself clear, Ashido?_"

Ashido rapidly nodded her head. A beat passed before Aizawa raised an eyebrow expectantly, leaving Ashido sputtering in a panic. "Uh- Uh, y-y-yeah, yes, sir. The, uh, the east wing. Far east, can't miss it."

Her lips were trembling as Aizawa scrutinized her, her knees buckling and palms sweating. Aizawa's silent rage left her breathless, suffocating and heavy as it bore down on her without mercy.

It was almost funny. After being friends with Bakugou for so long, she'd been naive enough to think that people being angry with her didn't scare her anymore.

Right now, she was downright terrified.

"Eraser!" Present Mic's voice rang through the air like a bell, and Aizawa turned away, Ashido and Hagakure both deflating as if they'd both been trapped underwater and had just broken through the surface. "Do you need backup? I can go with you!"

"No." Aizawa responded sharply. "If too many heroes suddenly show up, the villains will take it as a threat and retaliate. I'll handle this myself."

Present Mic nodded grimly as Aizawa stormed off, Ashido and Hagakure both collapsing to their knees as they embraced each other, sobbing in each other's arms. Above them, Present Mic stood as a reassuring, yet disturbingly and uncharacteristically quiet presence, unable to offer anything but a solid something to curl up against as the two girls huddled together.

Ashido's lips wobbled and her eyes stung with tears. _What happens now?_

* * *

The entire room _exploded. _

Jirou didn't even register her own voice, a startled cry escaping her lips as she stumbled and fell back. Every sensation hitting her brain all at once, she was more than lucky to not fall back right into the sensors in the doorway, completely forgotten in the face of light and smoke and _heat_ roaring to life in the small room, leaving her ears ringing and her eyes burning.

For a few short seconds, she was blinded, light flaring out and electric energy like static running through the ground, and for a single moment, Jirou wondered if she'd fallen right into a trap.

For a moment, she wondered if she was going to die.

And then she was plunged into darkness.

The piercing quiet that followed left her breathless, curled up on the floor where she'd fallen as she regained her bearings, forcing her brain into overdrive to catch up with what was happening to her, to what she was doing, where she was, _why. _

The low hum in her ears dimmed down, the occasional buzz of electrical sparks bursting through the darkness in small flashes, and even with her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Her head felt heavy, numb, but she still fought to stand, pulling herself up on shaking, unsteady feet as the room began to spin.

_What the h*ll just happened? _

"_Jirou?_" a voice called from the aether. "_Jirou, are you there? What was that? All the lights went out! What happened?_"

With her frazzled nerves, it took Jirou an embarrassingly long time to put a name or face to the voice, wincing at the throbbing in her head as recognition hit her. Readjusting her crooked headphones, she forced herself to exhale. "Hey. Uh, I don't know. I just-... I think something exploded, but not..."

_The USB. _

With a gasp, she suddenly realized that she must have dropped it when she fell, lost in the sea of blackness surrounding her. The electric bursts from the broken computer equipment did little to illuminate the room, leaving her falling to her knees as she padded around for it.

She didn't even know what happened. _What happened?_

There was a squeak somewhere to her left, her searching hand finding fur nuzzling against it, along with a plastic object. Jirou let out a sigh of relief as her hand curled around the familiar shape of a USB, the hamster who'd delivered it clicking happily.

"Okay." she breathed, gripping the USB tightly. "Okay, good. Good job, Ham."

Ham clicked louder, crawling up onto Jirou's thigh and burrowing into her pocket. It was only a moment later that the sparks died out, leaving her in complete blackness without even a sliver of light to offer. The purple-haired girl cringed, slowly rising back to her feet. "Alright, uh, it's pitch black in here. I can't see a thing."

"_It's dark here, too. I can only see because of the laptop screen. Are you okay?_"

"Yeah. Just blind. It's dark."

Static crackled through her headphones. "_You hit your head or something, Ears? You have the night vision goggles, stupid._"

Oh... Right.

Jirou felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she fiddled around her head, unsteady fingers finding the goggles strapped to her head as she pulled them over her eyes, the inky black room turning an eery green. Computer monitors were now scattered around the room, glass from the screens and ceiling light bulbs littering the floor. Though she hadn't noticed them before, broken quirk-enabling belts were now scattered around, mostly around the corner of the room that they'd all been shoved into at some point.

In the middle of the room, the suppressor sat mostly untouched, dark spots scattering its surface where it had been scorched when the room lit up in a spray of electricity. There was no light coming from the machine, completely downed from the surge of power just like everything else in the room. Jirou looked it over carefully, the cogwheels in her head slowly turning as she fought to understand wherever indications that she was supposed to be noticing.

"_Jirou?_"

Jirou swallowed. "Uh, right. Yeah, um..."

She felt nervous about touching it, a fear of electrocuting herself holding her back, but there was no indication of it running. The lights were off, the hum was gone, the wires connecting it to whatever was feeding it energy was fried, mostly around where it was plugged into the machine.

It was off.

Whatever had happened, it had turned it off.

"Uh... It's already been deactivated."

"_Huh?_"

"_What?_"

Jirou swallowed, a sudden heaviness in the pit of her stomach. "It's off. The power outage shut the whole thing down."

"_Wait, power outage?_"

"_Are the lights still on where you are, Bakugou?_"

"_What does it matter?_" Bakugou snapped. "_Ears, is the stupid thing really off?_"

Jirou swallowed harshly, eyes wide and unseeing. "Yes. Yes, it's off."

A beat of silence between them hung heavily in the air, the atmosphere constricting and suffocating. Bakugou cursed loudly. "_Why the _f*ck_ can't I use my quirk, then?! Are you sure?!_"

Her numb jacks hung uselessly from her earlobes.

"I'm not blind, jack*ss!" she hissed, kicking at the useless hunk of metal. "I'm literally still looking directly at the stupid thing right now!"

"_Then why-!?_" Whatever else Bakugou was saying was completely unintelligible, nothing but a string of inhuman noises that couldn't possibly belong to any human language heard on planet Earth. Honestly, at this point, Jirou wouldn't be surprised if the ash blonde knew a few literal alien curse words. It was almost amusing.

"_Guys?_" Hamuro whimpered, her voice shaking. "_Guys, what do we do now?_"

And wasn't that a brilliant question.

Up to this point, this whole operation had been in hopes that they could return everyone's quirks and regain their own. Clearly, this machine had some kind of purpose, but obviously, from the looks of things, it didn't do anything for their quirks. Was it actually related to something else and they misinterpreted everything?

_Or was it a trap? _

Jirou's eyes widened, gaze whipping around towards the door, where two sensor traps were still sitting, waiting for someone to sneak through and run right into them. If Hamuro hadn't noticed them, then Jirou would have walked right into them.

"What if this was bait?" Jirou thought aloud.

And not just bait for them. That wouldn't make any sense, considering that it's surely been here the whole time and there's no way that the villains had planned for any 'hostages' escaping.

If this was bait, then it was bait for the _heroes. _

But didn't that also seem odd? Considering that the heroes couldn't even get inside without the risk of someone getting shot?

The way things were set up, the villains had been hiding it, protecting it. They hadn't been letting the heroes find it. If it weren't for Hamuro's security leak, they would have probably never seen it.

Unless they'd been planning to show it.

Had the villains wanted a security leak to happen? Did they want the heroes to see? After all, they weren't being all that careful about it, right now.

_Had they all played right into their hands?_

"F*ck." Jirou breathed, suddenly very aware of every little sound echoing through the hall just outside of the doorway. In the pitch black, the mechanical green hue from the goggles did nothing to calm her quickly fraying nerves. "_F*ck,_ this is bad."

"_You're telling me._" Bakugou hissed through grit teeth, clearly just as agitated. "_Orange, I'm gonna need some reconnaissance. I don't know where the h*ll I am and someone's definitely following me._"

That was slightly less amusing.

Hamuro gulped so loudly that Jirou could clearly hear it through her headphones. "_O- Ok-kay. Okay, u-u-uh, I uh- Right. Um..._"

Jirou found herself creeping towards one of the darker corners of the room, phantom sounds of footsteps in the distance sending her rapidly beating heart into overdrive. For a moment, she felt dizzy, and she vaguely wondered if she was hyperventilating or if the villains had somehow set up some convoluted gas chamber trap in this room and if she was currently dying.

She wouldn't put it passed them. At this point, she'd believe anything.

The noises in her headphones were her only comfort, the rustling of Hamuro's equipment moving around, Bakugou's constant stream of curses and frustration, the underlying hum of static, all mixing together in a mesh of something that almost felt like a safe place, like a home that wasn't home, but was still the closest thing she could find at the moment and it was _safe. _

Until it wasn't.

Hamuro's sudden gasp was so loud that Jirou had thought for a moment that it came from someone in the room with her. Bakugou's cursing suddenly got louder. "_What?_" he demanded.

"_I- YOU- THEY- U- UH-!_"

"_Spit it out, kid!_"

"_G- G- GET RID OF 'EM! GET RID OF EVERYTHING!_"

"What? Hamuro, what's going o-!?"

"_**THEY'RE TRACKING US!**_"

Jirou felt her heart leap into her throat as the blood drained from her face, an ice-cold fear seizing her as if Todoroki had frozen her over with his quirk. Bakugou, meanwhile, had gone deathly quiet, doing nothing to calm the spike of anxiety currently stabbing right through her.

"_DROP EVERYTHING! THE HEADPHONES! THE EYES! DROP EVERYTHING AND RUN _ANYWHERE_ ELSE! GO! RUN, _RUN, **RUN!**"

She barely felt Ham curling up in her pocket, clinging to the USB, as Jirou tore the headphones off and all but leaped out of the room, diving through the space between the sensors and skidding across the floor as she fought to stand, slamming into the wall in her haste. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear door slamming, a rise in excitement and activity after Hamuro's desperate declaration. Blindly, with no plan whatsoever and nobody to keep her company but the ball of fur in her pocket, Jirou chose whatever direction her gut told her to go and_ ran. _

The cacophonous sounds of pounding footsteps reverberating through the empty halls behind her only spurred her to run faster.

* * *

It was by complete chance that Hamuro had even noticed.

Eyes dry and sore from the constant stream of bright screen lights assaulting in her face, she'd just taken off her goggles to get another look at the schematics when she glanced over at the corner of the screen and paused. It was such a minute detail that she was surprised that it even caught her attention, the small wi-fi symbol lit up with several bars of connectivity. At first, her brain struggled to even remind her why that was something worth noting, but even after a beat, the realization slammed into her gut just as forcefully.

_This computer should not be connected to the network. She'd made sure of it. _

She hadn't known how to respond, uncertainty leading to hesitation as she stumbled through her words, ripping off her goggles so quickly that she knocked her headphones askew and was left fumbling with her equipment in her panic, shouting just a little too loudly as she did so. How she hadn't noticed any jumps in sound quality or video connection was beyond her, because now, with it being shoved in her face, it seemed so glaringly obvious.

She'd used the exact same encryption as she did in the security station, hadn't she?

Of course, if the villains managed to figure them out on their cameras, then they'd probably have an idea of how to break through them in other places. It was a rookie mistake, like using the same password over and over again, and in that single moment, she was left utterly dumbfounded by her own stupidity. By that logic, even if she didn't have definite proof, the likelihood that they were being tracked right now on every single device they all had in their possession was astronomical.

Compromised. They were all compromised.

Because she was an idiot.

"RUN, _RUN, __**RUN!**_" she shrieked so loudly that it felt like her throat was being torn open by the force of it, the sound bouncing around the closed-in space and amplifying it against her own ears. With that, she wasted no time in ripping her headphones off, switching them off and letting them clatter roughly to the ground. She knew that it wouldn't do much for her if they were still sitting right in front of her, but that small act of detachment still gave her a tiny sense of relief.

One that she couldn't afford to indulge in.

The loud _thunk, thunk, thunk_ as she moved around lit her nerves on fire, but she just swallowed, clumsily grabbing for her screwdriver and whining in annoyance and terror as it nearly slipped right through her fingers. Unscrewing the vent grate fell like it took ages, but realistically, it probably took less than a minute.

She found herself hesitating as she lifted the grate, looking down at the floor underneath her with a wobbly lip and watery eyes. She knew that she couldn't go down there. Logistically, dropping down with all of her stuff would be a death sentence, because if someone was coming, she'd be getting herself cornered, and after screaming at the top of her lungs, someone would definitely be coming.

The problem was that if she kept her stuff up here, she'd be caught anyway. They'd know her exact position and that would lead them to check the vents eventually. Leaving was an option, but they'd still know to watch the vents, and as she mentioned once a long time ago, _the vents do have cameras. _

She could, in theory, go down and climb back up with the ladder in the backroom, but again, she might as well paint a big arrow on a sign pointing straight up at the vent grate.

With all of this in mind, she knew what she had to do.

She didn't want to. She really didn't want to.

_But what else could she do? _

A white-knuckle grip around the headphones, Hamuro could feel her hands shaking, only a single tear able to escape her eyes as she fought to regain her breath. It was a long way down, especially if she wanted to aim away from the grate opening. If she could toss everything over by the counter, then that would definitely pull all attention away from the vents, especially with the ladder put away.

She would probably break them, though.

She was probably going to break all of it.

Pain pulsated through her heart, her uncle's smiling face somewhere in the back of her mind. She hated to break his things, absolutely loathed it. She knew how hard he worked on all of his technology. She watched him work day in and day out, well into the night and for hours on end to follow his passion and create these things. All of his time, all of his effort, just for his dear little niece to literally carelessly throw it away.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

And yet..._what could she do? _

"I'm sorry..." she sobbed, clinging to the headphones as she lowered her arm through the opening and swung her arm back and forth before launching the headphones towards the counter. The loud _clunk_ that followed had her cringing harder than she ever had in her entire life.

Next was the goggles. Theoretically, only the eyes themselves should be a threat, but she didn't know if the villains could connect to the goggles.

No, that wasn't right. They had to in order to see what the eyes were seeing. The question was whether or not they could get a location on the goggles themselves.

_Better safe than sorry,_ she thought to herself ruefully as she tossed them out as well. They missed horribly, bouncing off somewhere into a pile of clothing that she couldn't see from where she was, but that didn't matter in the face of her biggest threat.

The laptop.

If she kept it, then this whole thing was pointless and they'd find her anyway. If she threw it, it was gonna be _loud. _

They were coming, either way.

Gripping it tightly, Hamuro pleaded to anyone or anything that might be listening that she wouldn't end up dropping the stupid thing, slowly slipping from her unsteady fingertips grasping its smooth surface as hard as they could. With a small cry, she launched it into the air.

Even as she was slipping the grate back into place, the laptop hit a hard surface with a thunderous crash, Hamuro internally mourning at the telltale sounds of bits and pieces of broken electronics scattering across the floor. Her heart racing and the air around her seemingly thinner, the orange-haired girl screwed in the last screw and shimmied back, pushing herself deeper into the pitch black vent.

Now that all of her light sources were gone, she couldn't even see her own hand in front of her face, shrouded in darkness and left alone in a sea of nothingness.

And that was just the icing on top of everything, wasn't it?

It wasn't just her and her uncle, anymore. It wasn't just her and a couple high schoolers, anymore. It wasn't just her and her pet hamster, anymore.

She was alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

Her own heaving breaths sounded obnoxiously loud in the small vent space, her body shaking with pent up anxiety and blood pumping with enough force that she could hear it in the sinking stillness. Every little sound had her on edge, noises pulling for her attention that she wasn't even sure were real. Sometimes she could have sworn she heard footsteps, but when she listened more closely, she couldn't hear anything.

And yet, she couldn't will herself to move, the thrum of terror and worry nothing in the face of her own body's neglected self-preservation instinct. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, a voice sounding suspiciously like a certain grouchy blonde chastising her cowardice in the face of adversity.

The rest of her brain told the voice to shove it.

_ "Your life is more important than theirs, Mika." _

_ "Mom..." _

_ "Your life is far more important..." _

_ "Do you think I could be a hero?" _

_ "Figure it out on your own."_

Here, in this moment, she was no hero.

So she huddled down, pressing herself as flat against the vent floor as she could, and held her breath.

And she waited.

* * *

_**No. **_

Lost in a train of thought that he hadn't even seen coming, Midoriya felt the wind getting knocked out of his lungs as he's yanked back into the treeline and towards the ground, a spray of bullets whizzing over his head. The untamed display of electricity in the north wing of the building has already died down, leaving it in darkness and silence and with nothing but dying sparks in its wake. From what he could see, his plan had worked.

_So why? _

"Midoriya!" Kirishima's voice rose above the noise as Midoriya rapidly descended, his fall only stopped by the strength of Asui's tongue. The force of it nearly snapped his neck, but Midoriya still found himself flailing as she released him, his back hitting the ground with a light thud.

Midoriya didn't feel the impact, however, even as he instinctively scrambled to his feet, his brain moving a million miles a second only to draw blanks at every turn.

_Why was the force field still there? _

"Midoriya?" Asui's voice sounded distant, almost unrecognizable, as if he was having a bad dream and he was just about to wake up, sprawled on his dorm room floor tangled up in his sheets and sunlight hitting him square in the face.

_Why was the force field still there? _

He found himself looking back at every move, every calculation, every decision. Should he have gone west instead of east? Did they overestimate the reach of Kaminari's quirk? Was this whole thing a setup?

Was the machine a fake? A decoy? Was there even a machine in the first place?

_Why was the force field still there?_

_This was bad,_ Midoriya's brain uselessly supplied. _This was really bad. _

If the force field was still there, then that meant that the heroes still couldn't infiltrate effectively. That meant that there were no countermeasures for this attack. That meant that the villains could take this little raid of theirs however they wanted.

And if someone was going to pay for it, it would be one of two groups.

The civilians,

Or Kacchan and Jirou.

_**No.**_

Midoriya felt the blood draining from his face.

_ Why. _

_ Was the force field._

_ Still there?_

"_MIDORIYA!_"

Twin cries of his name had him snapping out of his trance so fast that he felt whiplash, but he didn't even get a chance to catch up with what was happening around him as a body slammed into him at full force, sending them both crashing to the ground. Someone was screaming, but Midoriya could barely hear it over the blood roaring in his ears. He felt numb, like his soul had left his body, and the only thing he could focus on as his senses returned to him as warm liquid soaking his shirt.

Had he been shot?

There was no pain, even as he waited for it to bloom in his torso and drag him into the throes of unconsciousness, and for a moment, he was nothing but confused, his rattled brain misfiring on all cylinders as he viciously struggled to regain some form of understanding as to what was happening around him.

It all happened so fast.

"_Kero~..._" Midoriya heard above him, and suddenly, everything came into focus all at once.

The ground under him was smooth, barely a pebble to dig into his back, and the sun was so bright that he couldn't even see anything passed the spotlights being shone direction in his eyes. His body went from numb to tingling, One For All coursing through his body like the blood in his veins and tinting his vision a light emerald green.

For a moment, he was breathing and suffocating all at the same time.

It took him a moment to recognize Asui's hair draping over his body like a blanket, her trembling arms clinging to him as tightly as possible even as she lost her grip. The startling wetness painting his side had every alarm blaring in his mind so loudly that his head began to throb painfully.

"_ASUI! MIDORIYA!_" Midoriya finally realized that it was Kirishima who was screaming, his voice hoarse and cracking as his broad, hardened body was suddenly blocking out the sun. Not even a second later, an ominous _ping!_ and a cracking noise had Kirishima jolting forward, gasping as he fought to not fall on top of his classmates. Midoriya could already feel a sting not unlike a paper cut where Kirishima's arm had brushed against his shoulder.

Swallowing heavily, Midoriya's hands, ghosted along Asui's back, a whimper escaping her lips as his hand lightly pressed against a wet spot in her side, and suddenly, Midoriya felt hot tears spilling from his eyes.

He didn't want to look. Didn't want to see, to confirm that this was what he thought it was, but he still did. He still lifted his hand, hoping, praying that she'd just fallen in a puddle, or that her shirt was soaked in dew, and that his hand would come away clean, glistening in the sunlight.

It came back red.

He hadn't been shot. _Asui_ had.

Asui had been shot protecting _him. _

"A-... A- Asui?" His voice came out weak, barely above a whisper and overpowered by the waves of noise all around them. Still, pressed together like this, her lying listlessly on top of him, she seemed to hear his unsteady voice against her ear.

"I- I..." her voice was tight, her breaths quick and shallow as she fought the pain that surely followed. "Told you...to call me...Tsu..."

The short laugh that Midoriya let out was wet and hysteric, like a man just barely holding onto his sanity. "R- Right, ...Tsu." he breathed. "Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question, one that had him cringing and mentally kicking himself, but Asui just sighed against him. "It's okay." she forced out. "It hurts, but...that's okay."

She gasped in pain. "You're okay."

Midoriya had always been a crier, but he honestly didn't remember the last time that his heart hurt this badly.

"Midoriya," Kirishima's voice suddenly cut through the air, harsh and raw as another bullet ricocheted off of his back with another _crack!_ "What do we do? I can't completely shield you guys if I'm carrying both of you, and Asui needs medical help right now!"

Midoriya felt his heart thud against his chest as Kirishima grunted painfully. "_Argh..._ And...my leg..."

Green eyes widened.

He'd totally forgotten that Kirishima had been shot earlier that day. Recovery Girl hadn't been on the scene that he knew of, but he'd still somehow assumed that Kirishima had been healed good as new. He should have known better. He should know better than to assume that people could just _walk away_ after getting shot, no matter how competent the healer may be.

How could he have been so short-sighted?

How could he have been so _stupid? _

_He'd been so stupid! _

"Midoriya," Kirishima asked again. "What do we do?"

And Midoriya was terrified by the fact that he _didn't know. _

There was cover around them via foliage, but the only thing that would be effective against bullets would be the thicker trees. Since he's mostly unharmed, he could probably bolt behind one fast enough to avoid getting hit. The problem was that Asui was on top of him, and from here, he couldn't tell if the bullet was still in her body or not. Judging by the blood on her back, he could make an educated guess that there was an exit wound, but he couldn't see it from underneath her, and his senses going out of whack and his own paranoia had him questioning himself on his own logic, no matter how sound.

There was also the problem of Kirishima moving Asui in a way that wouldn't make her vulnerable to getting shot again. No matter what way he maneuvered her, her head in particular would somehow be a potential target.

Another ping, another crack, another wince.

Maybe, if Kirishima felt Asui in place, Midoriya could duck and roll from under her and dive into cover like that. She was close enough to the ground that she hopefully wouldn't be jostled too badly, and this was a dire enough situation that he might be willing to take the risk. Anything to get his friends out of the line of fire as quickly as possible. Anything to get them out of this situation that _he'd_ dragged them into.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did something coil around his ankle.

Kirishima saw it first, his eyes widening as he gripped Asui tightly, holding her as still as possible as the freckled teen was suddenly yanked out from under her. It happened so fast that barely a shot was fired between when Midoriya was moving and when his body collided with a mass of black.

It was then that he realized that the thing wrapped around his ankle was Aizawa-sensei's capture weapon.

"Kirishima!" Aizawa roared over the fire and brimstone raining down on them, and as if on instinct, Kirishima was gathering Asui in his arms and _sprinting,_ cracks spreading over his injured leg as he did so. Aizawa was reaching out and pulling them behind covering before Midoriya could even blink, pulling Asui into his own arms and loosely, comfortably wrapping her in his capture weapon and holding her head firmly against the nape of his neck that would be facing away from the building once they headed back to the front of the mall.

"Kirishima, you will stand between me and that building." he ordered sharply, no room for argument. "I want you to hold your quirk for as long as possible and move as quickly as you can, but do not push yourself, and once we reach camp, you and Asui will be in an ambulance and heading for a hospital immediately. Do you understand me?"

"But sensei-"

"Do _**not**_ argue with me, Kirishima."

Kirishima shrunk back, a thin film of tears building in his eyes as he swallowed. "...Y-... Yes, sir."

"Good." Aizawa huffed sternly. "Midoriya, you will stay directly at my side, away from the building, and you will _not_ go _anywhere_ else. Am I clear?"

Aizawa's tone left no room for argument, his eyes flashing a dangerous red. Midoriya nodded numbly. "Good. Now, move. I will decide on your punishment once we've reached safety, and trust me when I say that I will not be lenient with any of you."

With that, Aizawa faced forward, motioning for Kirishima to start moving as they started the hurried, anxious trek back. "I am very disappointed in all of you."

* * *

He was running blind.

A jumbled mess of curses festering on the tip of the tongue, Bakugou ducked his head down and ran, racing down the hall with quiet steps as the noise behind him grew dim. He had a tight grip around the gun, index fingers tapping in a nervous tick that he did his best to ignore.

The d*mn headphones and camera contraption had already been discarded, thrown to the side without care as soon as he realized the implications of Orange's warning. Now that he didn't have any impromptu trackers on his person, he had a better chance of outsmarting these b*stards hunting him down. Had he known about it beforehand, he probably could have given them the slip ages ago.

How much had they seen?

How much had they heard?

_What do they know? _

If they were able to get into the kid's equipment, then that meant that they could just as easily intercepted any of their conversations or calls this whole time. He'd known it was a possibility, which was why he was so cautious while talking to Deku.

At this point, it was all but confirmed.

He could pat himself on the back for thinking so far ahead later.

By this point, his run had slowed to a fast walk, his footsteps echoing through the empty, unfurnished corridor. Clearly, this section of the mall was unfinished, coated in plastic sheets and exposed pipes and wires. The lights were dim, enough so that he could barely see ahead of him, and not one window could be found anywhere he looked. He wasn't even sure what part of the mall he was in.

_This is bad,_ his brain uselessly supplied.

His steps slowed as light filtered through the end of the hallway, an almost welcoming white hue that poured into the corridor and painted the walls in the sickly color. Bakugou found himself running on autopilot, mind oddly blank, a white-knuckle grip on his weapon with abnormally unsteady hands as he trudged to the next room, the source of the light. He paused at the unfinished entrance, a deep frown on his face as he allowed his eyes to wander.

He was sure that this was the random as f*ck large chain store space that was 'being renovated' or whatever Orange said, judging by the massive size of the room. It felt impossibly big with nothing in it, other than a few indoor plants and some crooked signs, stretching forward for what felt like miles, massive pillars holding the high, distant ceiling up. From here, it looked like it stretched all the way up to the third story. Escalators, though not operational, had already been installed, allowing access to the second floor of the room at least.

From up there, the light seemed to be brightest, its warm glow almost inviting, and Bakugou felt almost overcome with curiosity. It certainly wasn't natural, none of this was, but still, he found himself creeping through the large, lifeless space, the echoes against the high ceiling and empty walls almost deafening amongst the stillness.

So many alarms were going off in his head that it felt like it was going to explode, skin dry and hands painfully numb as he came to an escalator and started his ascent, glancing behind him and around the room for any signs of movement. Nothing caught his eye, but he couldn't help the crawling paranoia that crept up his spine and sent goosebumps running along his cold skin.

There were many things that he could have seen up there. Some big light that was left on, a quirk user, a f*cking alien artifact, he didn't know. There were many things it could have been.

He wasn't sure how he felt about what he actually found.

Standing at the center of the second 'store' floor was some kind of stool, obnoxiously plain-looking and completely out of place sitting in the middle of this empty, untouched expanse of man-made space.

And on top of it was a metal cube.

It wasn't particularly conspicuous, just a random cube of clean, shiny metal with long, smooth indents running over the surface like lines on a blueprint, with its only glaring features being the giant white bulbs of light on each side of it. It could have been the light f*cking with his eyes, but he thought he might even see some sparks and streaks of electricity running along its surface. The air around it seemed to pulsate, not unlike heat rising from the ground over a flat horizon, and all of a sudden, Bakugou found himself starting to feel somewhat light-headed.

His hands _ached. _

It hurt, like when a limb would 'fall asleep', but sharper. The pain throbbed through his palms, through his head, a constant pounding against his skull that made him feel as if he was going numb, as if his own body was slowly slipping into unconsciousness for no reason that he could possibly understand. Everything else was white noise compared to the low, painful hum that had him cringing in discomfort.

Even in his muddled mind, it didn't take long for the pieces to all fall into place, for understanding to wash over him, for the answers to become obvious.

The machine on the cameras was shut off by the power outage, but nothing happened.

The machine on the cameras was a decoy, a trap.

_This_ was the real suppressor.

"F*ck." he hissed, hands tightly gripping the gun in his hands even tighter, as if that was even possible. Of course, Ears had the USB. Why would he have it? He wasn't even looking for the stupid thing.

But he'd found it.

He'd found it, and he needed to destroy it. Without his quirk.

The gun in his hands suddenly felt heavier.

"Worth a shot." he mumbled, raising his weapon. He was half-expecting the bullet to just bounce off and fly right back at him, but if he could put enough damage into one single hit, then it was worth the risk. Technology was dodgy, after all. One well-aimed dent could take the whole thing down, and by f*ck, could he use a little luck right about now.

"Hi, there!"

Bakugou was not proud to admit that he jumped, whirling around with a wild, startled look in his eyes as the barrel of the gun found itself facing a figure that he hadn't even heard approaching. Frankly, he couldn't hear much of anything right now over the stabbing hum, now that he thought about it.

At first, the light shadowed the man's person into a barely distinguishable silhouette, but as his eyes adjusted, they widened, the firearm in his hands only raising higher in warning.

He'd never seen the guy up until this point, but still, somehow, someway, he knew.

He _knew. _

_Black hair, accents of green, soft eyes, kind smile. _

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced!" he chirped, reaching out for a handshake. "Call me Schrodinger!"

* * *

"_GET BEHIND ME!_"

Todoroki's throat hurt, but he yelled out regardless, sending a wall of ice up as Uraraka dove behind him and Sero pulled both himself and a fried Kaminari in with them. The ice was thick, but he could still hear bullets pinging loudly against it, almost like the sound of bullet-proof glass cracking.

"Well," Sero sighed loudly, holding Kaminari in place. "This could have gone better."

"You think?!" Uraraka yelled. "The force field's still up! Why is it still up?! Deku's plan-!"

The pinging was growing in frequency, Todoroki quickly thickening the ice wall separating him and his friends from certain death. "We need to go." he stated.

"Go where?!" Sero shouted above the noise. "If we go back towards the treeline, they'll shoot us, and if we go either side, they'll still shoot us!"

"I can create more ice to keep us safe until we reach the other heroes." Todoroki said coolly, even as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

Because he definitely wasn't a big fan of the implications they were all currently facing.

"Are you sure?" Uraraka asked. "You're temperature's okay?"

"Yes. I can do much more than this. We're safe."

With that, he allowed his ice wall to stretch further around the mall, allowing them a quick easy passage. Uraraka stuck close behind him, Sero not far behind with Kaminari's arm hung limply over his shoulders. The small, barely audible _whey~_ had the dual quirk user grimacing despite himself.

Everything they had, and it was all for not.

Midoriya was going to be devastated.

And Aizawa was gonna be p*ssed.

Todoroki grimaced harder.

"Wait, hold on a minute." Sero suddenly spoke up. "What's that?"

Todoroki craned his neck to see, squinting through the thinner spots in his ice as someone on the roof held something in their hand, winding up to throw it. Todoroki's eyes widened minutely as he waved for the others to back away from the ice. "Get down!"

Uraraka looked at him as if he was slowly losing his mind. "What? Why?"

The villain threw _something_ at them, the object barreling straight for his ice. "_JUST GET DOWN!_"

That had them all leaping back, falling to the ground just as an earth-shattering _boom! _had Todoroki's ears ringing. For a moment, it was as if Bakugou had just suddenly materialized there with them and decided to just start firing at random.

"They have explosives!" Sero screamed above the ringing. "I did not know they had explosives!"

Todoroki looked up in panic as the ice wall crumbled, stumbling to his feet and rebuilding the wall just as another portion of it exploded. He couldn't hear much above the noise, but he could definitely see his friends panicked expressions as they skittered back from the ice.

But they couldn't back up that far, because if they did, they'd be prime targets.

"Todoroki!" Sero yelled. "We gotta make some distance! I don't know how that guy's strong enough to throw these things that far, but they are and we're sitting ducks out here!"

"...We're not ducks-"

"_Now's not the time for this!_"

Biting his lip, Todoroki glanced at the wall one last time, just as another section of it crumbled from another blast. Frankly, Todoroki hadn't known that they had explosives either, and Midoriya had also probably been unaware of this.

Either way, this could be a problem.

"You're right." said Todoroki. "We need to make distance. Our best bet is the treeline."

"But how?" Uraraka questioned nervously.

Todoroki frowned. Though he knew he was smart, and had faith in his own abilities, he knew he wasn't a strategic planner. Not like Midoriya, or Bakugou, or Yaoyorozu. Coming up with a plan on the spot and calling the shots like that just wasn't quite one of his strong suits.

It wasn't impossible for him, though.

"Sero, our best bet is if you can pull us all to safety with your tape." Todoroki decided. "Uraraka, you make us all weightless and hold onto Sero. I'll hold onto you and carry Kaminari with me."

"_Wheyyyyy~_"

"Are you sure that'll work?" Sero asked. "They'll still hit us."

"Keep us low to the ground." Todoroki said. "I'll drag my foot along the ground and cover us with my ice as best as I can."

Another explosion sent ice chucks careening through the air, narrowing missing them. Uraraka cringed. "It's not like we have much of a choice!"

"Right!" Sero agreed, launching a line of tape towards the trees as Uraraka patted all four of them to activate her quirk. Todoroki had little time to worry about the light tint of green in her complexion, more concerned about getting them all out alive than any current discomfort.

He really hoped that the others were okay.

"Everybody ready?" Sero asked, all of them slowly floating into the air as Uraraka gripped Todoroki's arm. Todoroki found himself clinging tightly to Kaminari, hovering bonelessly above the ground with a fried, dazed expression and thumbs still up.

"Go!" Todoroki responded, and just like that, they were off, racing through the air towards their best chance at protection as Todoroki dug his foot against the ground and activated his quirk.

Except that there was one small problem that he hadn't considered.

As it turns out, it was hard to keep your foot on the ground when you're weightless.

Ice sputtered along the ground as his foot bounced every time he got it down, small towers of ice shooting up behind them as they went. It felt like slow motion as every tower rose up as high as it could, just barely blocking out a small line of the building as they went, and it felt like it took eons for Todoroki to fully realize that it wasn't going to be enough.

For a single moment, suspended in the air and watching outside of his own body as villains fired down on them, Todoroki realized with sudden horrific clarity that he'd just gotten them all killed.

And then, there was _fire. _

It roared to life out of seemingly nowhere, a raging inferno barreling in like a phoenix rising from the ashes, and the heat that slammed into them was so intense that Todoroki could barely breathe. It was a familiar sensation, this feeling of choking on nothing but heat and fire and-

And for a split second, he barely caught the figure standing within the flames.

"_Father!_" he shouted on instinct, just as the four of them disappeared into the trees. With a force greater than any of them had been expecting, they all collided into a tree, sending them all spiraling into the brush with no hope of bracing themselves as Uraraka's shout signified the release of her quirk.

All at once, gravity returned to them, sending them all crashing into the ground. Even with his sore, bruised body, Todoroki still scrambled to his feet, reaching out for Kaminari's lax body as his other two classmates stumbled clumsily to their feet.

"Move!" was all Todoroki said as he hauled Kaminari to his feet and started running as fast as he could while dragging another human alongside him. Sero and Uraraka were right there with him, flanking him as they ran through the brush, the heat of Endeavor's fire searing the foliage behind them.

If Todoroki was being completely, one hundred percent honest with himself, he'd admit that he'd never been so happy to see his father, nor had he felt so much dread.

They were gonna have to face Aizawa now, weren't they?

* * *

"..."

"..."

"...Hmm. What's up with the tough crowds today, anyway?"

Bakugou didn't respond, biting his tongue and letting his searing glare and the barrel of the gun do the talking for him. His eyes were sharp, reflecting the light of the suppressor cube bullsh*t literally to his direct left like a spotlight against polished stainless steel. His fingers gently drummed against the firearm in his hands, more nervous ticks in a desperate bid to keep the rest of his body perfectly still and squared, a perfect image of confidence in the face of what he had a feeling was about to be impossible odds.

He doubted that the jack*ss was just throwing himself in front of him for sh*ts and giggles. The b*stard had a goal and a plan to achieve it, because after everything that's happened, everything that he's started and that's led up to this point, it didn't take a genius to know that the guy was the planning type, the over-analyzer, the strategist. It wasn't exactly rocket science. Just simple observation and deduction.

He grew up around f*cking Deku. He knew what a strategist in action looked like.

"Hello?" the a*shole asked with a tilt of his body, waving his hand obnoxiously. "Cat got your tongue? Nothing to say to me? Not even your name? How impolite. And I bothered to come all this way, too. I'm a busy man, after all."

What the h*ll did he want him to say? F*ck you? 'Cause that's all he's got, really. F*cking prima donna.

Prima Donna's face twisted into a childish pout, lips jutting to the side and hands stuffed firmly in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "Maybe it's stage fright." he sighed with a click of his tongue, gesturing behind the teen lazily. "We do have an audience."

With a sharp intake of breath, Bakugou turned just in time to see four armed guards barge in through a perfectly inconspicuous second-story entrance further back in the room, and in that moment, he couldn't help but chastise himself for being so short-sighted and distracted to miss it. It didn't matter that it was hidden in shadow, and it certainly didn't f*cking matter that he couldn't hear over the cube's incessant humming and the throbbing in his head.

Considering that the Prima Donna was already speaking with a raised voice, he seemed to also be aware of this effect.

F*cking fantastic.

His eyes darted back to the black and green f*cker giving him an unreadable look over with his gun still held in position, his index finger tapping idly against the trigger. Apparently, the villain was watching him pretty closely, because he noticed almost instantly. "What? Are you actually gonna shoot me?"

Observant b*stard, huh?

"Don't tempt me." Bakugou growled.

"He speaks!" the villain cheered. "And the first thing he spouts is empty threats. I'm not surprised, for some reason."

Bakugou's eyes hardened. A few clicks sounded out behind him.

The villain's eyes seemed to sparkle with fascination, his entire being radiating with confidence. "You know, even if you had the balls to shoot me, you'd have at least four bullets lodged into your back immediately after." he said with a shrug. "Not sure how much good that would do you."

Bakugou snorted. "You weren't planning on gunning me down, anyway?"

The Prima Donna's expression became thoughtful, his fascination amplified by a wave of genuine curiosity. "That's a good question. Honestly... Not quite."

Not promising.

"If anything," the villain continued. "I was hoping that we could have a chat. After all, you've got quite the country-wide reputation, Bakugou Katsuki."

His body jolted and his eyes widened minutely, but he held his glare. The smiley f*cker still somehow noticed. "The underground world of villains and vigilantes is a rather complex web of communication." he explained dismissively. "Information spreads fast, and as it turns out, you've been a hot topic in a few circles."

Hands B*stard and his league of f*cking losers could all go chug cement, and eat a few d*cks while they were at it.

"You f*ckers were after me?" he hissed through grit teeth.

"Not initially. Don't be so conceited."

His eye twitched.

"Now then," Prima Donna loudly announced. "I do have other business to attend to and right now, you literally have your back to a firing squad, so if you would kindly drop your weapon, I would love to sit down and have a nice chat. I have so much to talk about."

Bakugou snorted. "I ain't scared of your f*cking entourage, Prima Donna."

"_Prima Donna!_" the villain laughed. "How have I not heard that before? That's a good one!" His grin was a strange mix between inviting and manic, and Bakugou felt his skin crawling as he clasped his hands together and tilted his head. "But seriously, though. Drop your weapon." he ordered dryly.

His sharp glare unwavering, Bakugou allowed a feral grin to spread over his face, fierce enough that even the cocky a*shole in front of him seemed to somewhat falter. "If you think I'm gonna just hand myself over to you without a struggle, you clearly haven't done your homework."

"Look, you're stuck, either way. I don't know why you're still threatening me. It's either we both live or we both die."

"I'm aware." Bakugou growled, whirling around and aiming at the stupid guards that were trying to creep up on him. They all froze, weapons still raised. "You hear that, f*ckers? Get too close and I'll shoot! Don't try me, a*sholes!"

The thing was that he was fully aware that he was absolutely f*cked. If he attacked, they'd gun him down and he was dead. If he relented, he was their hostage. It didn't matter what he did, because whatever he did, whether he fought or tried to run, there was no way he was outrunning a bullet at this distance with no cover.

_What was he supposed to do? _

"Yeah, you hear that?" Prima Donna chimed in playfully. "He'll shoot! Teenagers, am I right?" His voice was mocking. Knowing. "If that's the case, then go for it. Come on, kid! Shoot me! Condemn us both!"

The villain threw his arms out wide, outstretched tauntingly as the b*stard grinned smugly, as if Bakugou didn't have the guts to follow through with his threats. His eyebrow twitched, teeth grinding together as he doubled down on himself, refusing to hesitate and screw himself over any more than he already was, and aim for the villain's legs.

And he pulled the trigger.

_**Click. **_

_What. _

Thinking back, Bakugou couldn't remember very many moments in his life where he'd felt so wholeheartedly panicked. Of all the times, _of all the times_ that something this stupid and _cliche_ would happen, of course it would be _right f*cking now._

At least Prima Donna looked just as shocked as he did, his raised hand slack in the air as he blinked at him, seemingly stupefied. "...Uh, wow. Um, okay, you actually would have done it... Huh. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting that. Color me impressed."

The next few seconds that followed felt as if he was completely in slow motion, the rapid footsteps behind him setting his nerves on fire as if Half n' Half had lit him aflame. There was a glint in his eyes, bright and dauntless as he allowed the unloaded firearm in his hands to twirl around his fingers until he was tightly gripping the barrel. Apparently, the ever-observant villain caught onto him immediately, his expression shifting to genuine, glorious panic as Bakugou reared back his weapon like a baseball bat and swung at the cube as hard as he could.

_**BANG!**_

Bakugou cursed as a bullet violently bounced off the barrel near where his hands were, nearly knocking it completely out of his grip and throwing off his momentum. The Prima Donna huffed nervously, the b*stard apparently a quick draw extraordinaire as he kept his pistol held up threateningly.

The butt of Bakugou's gun still made contact with the metal cube, even if it wasn't close to his full strength, awkwardly rolling off the stool and clattering to the floor. Of course, the villains had thought to build this thing to withstand a little jostling, because the lights didn't even flicker when it hit the ground, but Bakugou wasn't deterred, recovering quickly and swinging the gun downward like an ax cutting firewood.

In that moment, Prima Donna was already on him, Bakugou forced to change tactics and grapple in order to wrestle the villain's pistol away from his body. Smiley seemed to have the same idea, trying to forcefully twist his arm to get his gun out of his grip. However, after barely a second of grappling, Bakugou quickly realized that he was clearly physically stronger than his opponent.

He also noticed that he was avoiding aiming the pistol at his head, or anywhere particularly lethal, for that matter, but that was something mull over at a later time, because he could hear the four guards behind him converging on him and no matter what happened from this point on, it was safe to say that he was utterly, royally screwed.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going down swinging.

Letting his firearm fall out of his grasp, he ripped his arm out of Smiley's grip and clenched his fist, reeling back and letting it fly. The villain didn't even get a chance to try and dodge, the ash blonde's fist solidly colliding with Smiley's face and sending him stumbling back, eyes wide in surprise and confusion.

Bakugou couldn't help but grin. Idiot didn't even know what hit him.

It was within the same second that something slammed into his back, sending him toppling to the ground face-first. He winced at the impact of his face against the ground, the cold surface shocking his senses as he found himself being shoved against it, arms wrenched behind his back and at least three gun barrels being pressed against his skin.

"Sir, are you alright?!" the fourth guard, a smaller-looking one, yelled out, crouched down next to Smiley as he knelt there, hunched over with a hand tightly pressed against his face. Slowly pulling it away, the villain seemed surprised to see blood, wiping at his face as more began to seep from his nostrils.

"Huh." he muttered blankly. "Kid's got a good right hook."

Methodically, the Smiley moved to sit down, crossed-legged as he watched the teen struggle. Bakugou bit back a hiss as the guards jabbed the gun barrels harder against him, as if they would actually fire at this point, and wrenched his arms further back. The Prima Donna, though his face was still mostly expressionless, held an interested glint in his eyes, fearlessly meeting the teen's heated glare as he seethed.

"You know something, kid?" he suddenly sighed, a smile creeping back onto his face. "I think we're gonna be having a very, very interesting conversation."


	14. Radioactivity: The Aftermath

_Footsteps. _

It was impossibly dark, leaving Hamuro in a sea of blackness that had her heart pounding wildly against her chest. Despite the readily available cover, she found herself curling into herself, left in a tight fetal position as she fought with her own lungs to take in oxygen as evenly and quietly as possible.

She wished that Ham was there. She wished that her little hamster was there right behind her to nuzzle her sweater and remind her that she isn't alone.

Except that she _is. _

And she's _terrified. _

The footsteps only grew louder, a piercing sound grating on her ears and pressing against her chest, and it didn't take a genius to realize that there were more than two pairs of feet coming her way. If there were any other sounds outside of those feet and Hamuro's borderline hyperventilating, she wasn't aware of it.

A beam of light briefly passed over the grate opening, barely anything but a flash that left spots in her eyes, and it took every ounce of self-control that Hamuro could ever even hope to have to hold still, even as her brain screamed at her that she might be too close to the grate, that she might be breathing too loudly, or that her heart is pounding so loud that someone might hear it beating against the vent floor.

Any voices below her were barely a whisper, but they were there, like an apparition in a haunted forest leading lost travelers to their deaths. The longer she waited and listened, the louder the shuffling and shifting of objects became. The creaking of the backroom door and and more stray spotlights blinking through the darkness were like icepicks against her skull.

Was she trembling? She couldn't tell. Maybe she was just cold.

Where was Ham?

Where were her friends? Would she ever even see them again?

She didn't know where they were, and she couldn't exactly stay here. Without communications, they couldn't coordinate a new rendezvous point, and there was no way that they could meet up here again, especially with guards now floating around watching and searching the place.

_She didn't want to be alone. _

_**She couldn't do this alone. **_

The backroom door suddenly slamming into the wall made her jump, the sound of her head banging against the vent floor barely masked by the responding bang underneath her. "D*mmit!" someone seethed.

"Calm down, man." another person quickly said. "They knew we were aware of them. Of course, they'd get outta dodge."

Grumbling could be heard, but no objections were made.

"This does answer a question or two, though." someone else commented. "Schrodinger did say that if they were all already gone, then that probably meant that there was a small number of them."

"Yeah, but that still doesn't give us exact numbers, and at this point, any miscalculations could ruin everything, even if it's just one extra person."

"He's got a point. We've only had two confirmed runners and one whose status is unknown. If there's anymore of them completely unaccounted for, there could be disastrous consequences."

Hamuro bit her lip, lying herself as flat against the vent floor as she possibly could. From the sounds of it, they were none the wiser to her presence, but she couldn't let her guard down.

Then again, what was the point? If they knew she was there, there was no escaping.

"Do you think Schrodinger will question the boy about it?"

_The boy?_

"No doubt. Whether or not he'll get any information out of him has yet to been seen."

"He's just a teenager. Give 'em an hour or so and they'll have him talking in no time."

_Wait, they didn't mean-_

"I don't know." The tone was casual, yet unsure. "I've heard stories about this guy. He's a tough egg to crack, if the LoV's interactions with him are anything to go by."

"That, and he's already single-handedly kicked several of our a*ses. People who've seen sh*t tend to be pretty tight-lipped."

Someone hummed, but Hamuro didn't hear much of whatever else was said, her mind slowly sinking away until her entire body was just numb and limp. If she could see her own eyes, she was sure they would be void of life.

_Did they get Bakugou? _

The thought scared her, shook her to her core and left her thoughts spiraling. No names were given, but there was no one else she could think of that they might be talking about, and as far as she knew, no one else was actively doing anything inside the mall. Unless there were heroes inside the mall right now, heroes that were _caught,_ there was nobody else that they could be talking about.

She wanted to believe it was somebody else. She wanted it to be someone she didn't know, as selfish and ugly of a thought as it was, but there weren't many other possibilities and _she was scared. _

There was no confirmation, though. She didn't know for sure.

_She didn't know. _

_**She didn't know what to do.**_

_Stay calm,_ her brain said, even when her hands were shaking so hard that she was sure there were tremors running through the vents. Be paranoid, but stay calm. Cautious. Careful.

Even if she was painfully alone, she couldn't allow herself to just give up and hand herself over. Not now.

_ "Your life is so much more important."_

It had been five or six years ago, when she'd made that promise, and yet she still remembered that park, the bright green grass glistening in the morning sun and the trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Only a few other people in that park at the time, so it had been quiet, save for the chirping birds and the occasional laugh of another child walking with their family, and the distant sound of the waking city.

She even remembered how cold the bench was, the little orange-haired girl huddling against her mother's side for warmth. Her mother had been somber and particularly snappy that day, easy to cry and quick to shout at her husband. Escaping the house with her daughter in tow, she'd gone there to think, if Hamuro was reading the atmosphere correctly. It had been so long ago that she couldn't trust her memory of every tiny emotional detail. Just the beautiful scenery and her mother's desperate pleas.

She wondered if it was aunt Rui's birthday that day, or maybe the anniversary of her death. Whatever the case, it had left her mother in shambles, and the very idea of Hamuro so excitedly proclaiming her dream of becoming a hero had made her go ballistic.

Her father had argued it was just a phase. Her mother wasn't having any of it.

_"Promise me!" _

Her hand instinctively felt around for fur, searching blindly for comfort, for company, but all she found was the cold, empty vent surrounding her.

Maybe she could just stay here.

It wasn't a bad plan. Nobody was none the wiser, and Jirou was out there somewhere. Plus, there was an entire parade of heroes waiting outside for the slightest opening. Someone else would surely save the day. She was no hero, after all.

Someone else will save them.

Right?

_"Do you think I could become a hero?" _

For some reason, the thought left a sour taste in her mouth. Even though she was next to useless without her gadgets, or even her quirk, sitting around like this make her feel...oddly ill.

She couldn't fight. She couldn't follow them. She couldn't watch from afar. She would only get in the way.

Someone else could do it.

_But what if they couldn't?_

Hamuro swallowed thickly.

_What would you do..._

Her trembling fingers clenched into fists.

_If the only one who could do it..._

Her eyes felt watery.

_Was you?_

_ "Figure it out on your own."_

Her eyes hardening, Hamuro forced herself to relax, letting her head rest against the cool vent floor. Obviously, jumping out of the vent wasn't an option, as she'd be caught in less than a millisecond. Even if she waited for them to leave, jumping down to collect her broken equipment and try to make some use out of it seemed somewhat pointless. If she was lucky, maybe the goggles still worked, but it was too risky to jump down and not be able to get back up.

Staying here wouldn't help anything anyway, so it seemed that her best option was to just get out of there, despite the dangers of vent cameras in the dark, and hope she ran into Jirou by sheer luck, or maybe even Bakugou, if she'd read the situation wrong.

She really hoped she was wrong.

The fact that she had no way of confirming or denying was eating away at her, but she had to swallow that uncertainty and focus. That's what Bakugou would do, anyway. She was sure.

With that in mind, all she could really do was wait for her unwelcome visitors to get lost so that she could get out of there without being detected and at least try to make herself useful. Heroes don't give up, after all, and even if she isn't one, that doesn't mean that she can't try to emulate them.

Deep down, that was still her dream. Even now, she still hadn't let go of that silly hope of hers.

If she could be a hero, even just for a second.

Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile, even as her thoughts came back down to earth and her brain registered the violent cacophony of stuff being thrown around before her and colorful language that she'd never even heard before. Even if they couldn't possibly hear her over the noise she was making, she still held as still as possible, her lungs screaming as if she wasn't breathing at all.

There was a crash, a boot heavily colliding with something as someone stomped away. "_D*mmit!_"

"We heard you the first time, bud."

The sounds eventually faded, footsteps and irate shouting slowly disappearing into the distance and the villains finally left her in peace, but it still wouldn't be for several more minutes before Hamuro dared to breathe, let alone move.

* * *

For how few people were actually in there, it almost felt as if the entire fourth floor was in utter chaos.

"Schrodinger, sir!" a guard shouted, running up to his side with a panicked expression as he approached the makeshift control room. "Sir, wha- Wait, whoa, what happened to your face?! Are you okay?!"

Absentmindedly, Schrodinger wiped under his nose, ignoring the fresh stain now soaking the back of his gloved knuckle. "It's nothing to be concerned about." he said simply.

In all actuality, the impact had stunned him good. The world had spun for a good several seconds and his cheek was still throbbing with pain. His vision in his left eye was a tad bit foggy and a part of him still felt somewhat dazed from the hit, but he supposed that it would all correct itself with time.

Either way, it wasn't anything worth freaking his minions out over. So the kid had gotten a good hit in. Fair enough. No reason to start a war over it.

Besides, that problem was now taken care of and thus not worth the unnecessary stress.

"I've been busy with efforts in tracking wayward civilians." Schrodinger sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Someone please explain to me what all the commotion is outside. Did the pros actually try to infiltrate?"

"We think it's a similar situation to the first two heroes that broke through our defenses." another guard explained. "All participants appeared to be teenagers up until the end. Most of the panic is honestly from Endeavor's brief appearance."

"That doesn't tell me anything." Schrodinger huffed impatiently. "What happened?"

"There was an attack at the very edge of the east wing of the building." someone else chimed in. "One of them had some kind of strength quirk that they could use from a distance, because people were getting blown back left and right. We thought it might be the first wave of their infiltration, so we sent more men to deal with it just in case, but apparently, there were more of them at the north end, with even more long-distance capabilities."

"A diversion, then." Schrodinger hummed. "Clever."

"The thing is that one of the heroes at the north end had a long distance electricity quirk, and a powerful one at that. Electricity in the entire north wing is currently down, and in the end, it really was just a bunch of teenagers causing problems, because Eraserhead and Endeavor stepped in and escorted them all out of our line of fire."

That was...actually a lot of information to take in at once.

And whether it would be beneficial or detrimental to his goals might actually be debatable.

"What's the state of the cameras around the decoy location?"

"Downed with the electricity, sir."

Schrodinger sighed in relief. If they'd seen that thing go down, then the heroes' attention would wander elsewhere. So long as he controlled their point of focus, he could rest easy that they wouldn't be doing anything truly outside of his expectations. It didn't mean that he could let his guard down per se, but it made things easier for him in the long run.

The north being their target was too good to be true for the heroes. No hostages to worry about, a way to regain their quirks, not as many guards, it was a perfect opening. Their hesitance was likely due to A, the threat of hostage deaths and B, the fact that the villains were ready for them, which was all true. What the heroes didn't realize, however, was that the whole thing was a distraction in and of itself.

Once the heroes that decided to go inside to take out the machine eventually showed up, it would be like handing Schrodinger a few brand-spanking-new high profile hostages that he could do whatever he wanted with, and wouldn't that look absolutely awful for the heroes, especially if they were to, say, _never be seen again._

At least, that's what he'd originally been hoping for, but with how fast things were moving now, he didn't really have time to wait for that opportunity.

Instead, he'd just take advantage of what he had.

Of course, in order for all of this to be possible, the heroes needed to know where this decoy even was, hence why he'd been planning to fake a security leak in the first place. It wasn't quite in his plans for one to actually happen for real, and way sooner than he'd wanted.

It gave him chills just thinking about it. If that had happened anywhere else other than the north wing, his whole operation might have been compromised.

That was something to question the boy about. _How the h*ll did that happen? _

It also didn't help that one of the wayward hostages being tracked was _in the decoy room_ at one point.

Now that had startled him. If the individual wasn't being tracked in that moment, he might not have known that anyone was in there as soon as he'd like, and boy was that a wake up call. He'd have to take guarding it a bit more seriously, because apparently, people were more observant than he'd given them credit for.

"Sir," a voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "What's our next course of action?"

A fair question, indeed.

Rubbing his chin in thought, Schrodinger glared at his feet intently, tapping his foot and pursing his lips. "Well, technically, the heroes did try to attack us. Our best shot at distracting them from the implications that might come from this power outage is to force their focus back onto the hostages."

If the heroes realized that the machine in the north wing was a decoy, they'd start looking around, and the less tampering that they had to deal with, the better.

Schrodinger suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh yes, also! Start preparations for the finale asap."

Several guards paused to consider him, looks of open surprise and confusion on their faces. "Wait, already? You planning on using the kid, then?"

"With how fast things are moving, I don't see why not." Schrodinger shrugged. "If you're gonna set a pace, you stick with it. If the heroes want to keep things moving, then we'll match them tenfold, because if they move faster than us, it's over. They have Endeavor, Eraserhead, and other U.A. associates down there. It's now or never. Besides, a trainee could be far more effective of a tool than a pro, don't you think?"

The guards nodded, the chaos increasing as they did as instructed. "The boy's currently being kept in the storage room closest to the real suppressor," Schrodinger shouted over the commotion. "So start prep immediately and be ready to bail when the countdown begins."

"Yes, sir!"

The raven-haired villain watched in satisfaction as act three of his operation began to manifest itself right before his very eyes. Even now, he could still remember the planning and research, the hundreds of all-nighters spent gathering recruits, inventing and manufacturing equipment, hours of nothing but mugs of pure caffeine and bright lights as he slaved away at his first ultimate scheme.

Well, perhaps first wasn't fair, but it was the first where he was spearheading the whole thing completely on his own without some arrogant know-it-all breathing down his neck.

And through it all was Shirako. Beautiful, unwavering Shirako, with matching dark circles under her eyes to match his own and muscle pains leaving her crying herself to sleep most nights. The sacrifices that she'd made in his name, for his sake, everything she'd ever done for him...

He could never truly repay her.

_Never. _

Schrodinger hummed. "Now that I think of it... Where _is _Umineko?"

* * *

"What the _h*ll_ is going on?!"

Jirou sucked in a sharp breath at the irate, feminine voice that cut through the air like a butcher's knife. Her feet pounded against the concrete floor as she raced deeper into the unknown, a wild beat to match her frantic heart in a cacophonous rhythm. The echoes behind her made no sense to her muddled brain, left with nothing but mush in the face of absolute failure.

It had all been for nothing.

For _nothing. _

"Someone was in the break room with the decoy when the electricity went out!" someone shouted above the noise.

"_WHAT!?_"

Jirou pushed herself to run faster, her legs burning from exertion. She had no idea where she was going, blindly running as the commotion rose behind her, with nothing but the green hue of her night vision goggles to guide her through the darkness. Behind her, beams of light rapidly blinked in and out of existence, a spectacle of flashes as guards began to frantically search for the intruder.

The pitch black hallway stretching out in front of her was almost completely barren, leaving her with few options of escape. Either she found her way back into the main mall or she somehow got back into the vents. At this rate, with how deep she was going into the staff-only maze, the chances of finding an unguarded exit seemed slim.

A vent it was, then.

"Gotta be kidding me..." Jirou muttered to herself, out of breath. The trick would be to find one that she could reach and hope that nobody figured out when she went. After that, all she could do was wander around until she somehow magically got back to that clothes shop and met up with the others. It was her best chance, anyway.

Turning the corner, the next room caught her eye, Jirou being hit by a sudden spike of energy as she sprinted to it, her feet sliding clumsily along the ground as she grabbed onto the open door frame and stumbled into the room.

Judging by the two dust, precariously-placed computer monitors and the cobwebs in the corners by the ceiling, she'd somehow managed to stumbled into the unused security station by sheer dumb luck. All that was in the room besides those things were two large desks and a single broken swivel chair. Scanning the room, the vent along the ceiling was heavily exposed, the grate left broken and askew. She could probably reach it if she jumped from the desk, but the open grate would be a dead giveaway if anyone noticed.

From the sounds rolling down the halls outside, she didn't have much of a choice.

Shoving the chair aside, the purple-haired girl found herself carefully lying the monitors face down, worried about knocking them over in her haste. There was no way she could afford sending something crashing to the ground when she was this close capture and/or death.

Scrambling onto the desk, the grate looked higher than she thought, but she barely allowed herself a moment to hesitate, leaping up flailing for the grate. The broken grate easily snapped under her weight, sending her back to the ground with a sloppy but otherwise successful landing as she quickly shoved the grate under the desk and climbed back up. She hated how sweaty her hands were, the threat of slipping and falling sending her frazzled nerves into overdrive, but she swallowed her doubts, just as she'd been trained to do, and just _went for it. _

Her fingers barely gripped the edge of the vent opening, her body swinging from the momentum as she grit her teeth and forced her stiff, aching arms to pull her body up and into the safety and cover of the vent. The cold hit her before she could probably register anything, crawling away from the opening before her body sagged against the vent floor, the air leaving her exhausted system in one large _whoosh. _

_How the h*ll did she pull that off so quickly?_

It didn't matter, she supposed, her treacherous heartbeat hammering against her eardrums as the shouting came back all at once. The footsteps closes to her position had slowed, allowing her a chance to breathe as a couple people seemed to stop in the room she'd just been in. The click-clack of heels caught her attention, a woman grumbling viciously as she too stepped into the barren room.

"Where did they go!?" the feminine voice shouted, an edge of ire behind it that had Jirou's skin crawling. "If this is that orange brat again, I swear to _f*ck-_"

"Ma'am, please calm down." a particularly brave guard responded coolly, only to be met with the loud clang of something solidly connecting with their armor and rewarding the hit with a soft grunt.

Jirou simply relaxed against the vent floor, allowing herself a moment to silently catch her breath as she waited for them to move on. The vents were loud, so moving around right now would obviously lead them right to her, but honestly, she didn't think she'd be able to move right now even if she wanted to.

She never been so exhausted in her_ life. _

Everything that had happened thus part was finally catching up to her, she realized, her face pressed against the freezing vent as she found her eyes drifting shut. Even if this was no time for sleeping, a moment of rest had never sounded so appealing before. She smiled at the thought, her breaths long and even as stray strands of hair slid around the goggles to lie in clumps against the floor.

Lost in her moment of reprieve, it was almost embarrassing to admit how little she was aware of, the beam of light flickering between the ceiling and the floor completely slipping her mind until-

"_**THEY'RE IN THE F*CKING VENTS!**_"

The most unholy, ear-splitting shriek of indignant rage she'd ever heard pierced her ears like daggers. Jirou gasped as a bullet suddenly tore through the vent floor, barely missing her and leaving her ears ringing. She curled into herself instinctively, a sharp, all-encompassing note of fear leaving her body impossibly rigid as she uselessly covered her head with her arms and curled up even tighter. The small barrage of bullets that tore through the vent floor all around her left her in a state of numb detachment, eyes wide as the goggles' green tint took up her entire vision and left her breathless.

_I'm about to die._

_ They found me and I'm gonna die._

_ **I'm gonna die.**_

She squeezed her eyes shut as the rain of bullets slowed, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood as she felt something scrape almost harmlessly against her leg and whiz through her hair, sending strands floating into the freezing air like bird's feather floating in the wind.

_Calm down,_ she told herself. _Breathe. _

_Breathe. _

Pitter-patter directly next to her ear caught her attention, her hazy eyes staring into the green-tinted darkness as something nuzzled its way out of her pocket. Her eyes widened immensely as they landed on a ball of fur casually making its way down the vent past the opening, staying carefully quiet and out of sight as he went.

_What was Ham doing?_

She'd almost forgotten about him in her rush to escape her pursuers, sitting unnoticed in her pocket as she charged down the blackened hallway. Now, seeing him scurry down the vent with a purpose, she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, especially considering the nature of his quirk.

Did the little guy have a quirk?

Little back at her through the darkness, he wiggled his little ears and nose, and then his tiny little tail, before he paused where he was.

And then started banging against the vent floor with all of his might.

Ham was a fairly rotund rodent, bigger than than the average hamster and large enough to easily fit in the palm of Jirou's hand, so him smacking against the vent floor and bouncing around on the vent walls was more noise than one might expect. Jirou's were impossibly wide, mouth agape as she watched Hamuro's hamster jumped around to make as much noise as possible, almost as if he was trying to mimic a human trying escape through the vents.

"Over there!"

Gunfire started up again, now more concentrated around where Ham was banging around the vent. Jirou could see the moment that Ham crossed past the wall, bullets practically making a line through the vent floor where they could no longer shoot.

"F*ck!" the female voice shouted. "Where does the vent lead!?"

"Uh, how would I-?"

"FIND OUT!" she screamed, running out of the room. "We'll cut 'em off the first chance we get! We can't let them get away again!"

Jirou listened in stunned disbelief as the woman and the guards all filed out, taking off down the hallway after where all the noise seemed to be heading. It was almost comical, the whole fiasco that she'd just witnessed.

She'd just been saved by a hamster.

A _hamster. _

Kaminari would never let her live that down if he ever found out.

She smiled at the thought, taking a moment of momentary reprieve to imagine his goofy smiling face. Man, she was really starting to miss him.

For now, though, after the spike of adrenaline that had left her breathless, she found herself relaxing again, completely numb to the ridiculousness of everything that had just transpired and instead soaking in the mind-numbing relief of somehow still being alive after sitting in the path of what was basically a firing squad.

_And I'd really been needing a little bit of luck, too,_ she thought blearily as she rested against the torn up vent floor. A minute or two to catch her breath couldn't hurt, after all.

* * *

He almost felt bad for shoving his student into the tent so harshly, the boy stumbling forward with wide, petrified eyes and trembling hands, but frankly, Aizawa was frustrated.

Aizawa was _so frustrated. _

Tsukauchi's team was currently losing their minds, paranoia about Schrodinger's incoming reaction to the kids' actions running rampant among the group as they scrambled for damage control. He didn't know what the other heroes were up to, but he supposed he'd find out in due time. For now, he was more concerned about corralling his disobedient, _idiotic_ students before they caused any more trouble than they already have.

The faded red stains coating the front of his shirt were sending pins and needles running along his skin, the phantom warmth of Asui's blood sending shivers down his spine. He didn't have time to stick around and make one thousand percent sure that she would be okay, but Recovery Girl had already been contacted and was on her way to the same hospital that the ambulance was heading and though staunching the blood flow was a major concern, there was at least no bullet to have to work around through surgery and other healers were on standby to start the recovery process.

He'd also been able to get Kirishima to stand down with the request of staying by her side. Even if he also needed medical attention, at least he'd feel like he was helping, and that would keep him in line for the time being. Meanwhile, Ashido and Hagakure were under watch in another tent, where whoever Endeavor retrieved from the _clusterf*ck_ that now made up the north wing would be joining them.

That, from his understanding, made up most of the guilty party, though as of right now, he had no way of knowing just how many people in the class were aware of what was happening, and thus guilty by association.

_What a mess. _

Arms crossed over his chest, the raven-haired hero stared his wayward student down. "Problem child."

Midoriya flinched, eyes squeezed shut as he curled into himself, and Aizawa swallowed the twitch in his heart to maintain his fiery red glare. "_Midoriya,_" he ordered. "_Look at me._"

The kid actually sobbed, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Normally, Aizawa might feel a pit open up in his stomach at the sight of his student being so inconsolably terrified of him, but right now, he needed this. He needed to pull rank, to assert his position as his teacher, his superior, the adult in this situation.

He needed him to _understand. _

"What you did was foolish and reckless. You understand that, don't you?"

Midoriya didn't answer right away, his frame racked with sobs, but Aizawa held his ground. "Do you realize how many people you've endangered today?"

Midoriya swallowed harshly. "I-I- I w-w-was j-just trying to he-"

"I don't care what your intentions were." Aizawa cut in, the greenette flinching harshly at his tone. "It doesn't matter what you were trying to do. I, your teacher,_ specifically_ told you not to get involved, and you and your classmates blatantly disobeyed me."

"No! Wait!" Midoriya met his eyes for the first time, shimmering with tears as he scrambled to his feet. "Don't punish the others! It was all me! I talked them into-"

"That shouldn't matter. They were still directly involved and just as much to blame as you."

"But I-"

"They could have said no." Aizawa interjected. "Unless you somehow forced them all to participate, which I doubt, they could have easily walked away, or better yet, told somebody so that we could have prevented this."

Midoriya's knees were buckling, watering eyes wide and clouded with so many emotions that Aizawa couldn't even begin to count them all. "Midoriya," he started, his tone low and level. "I need you to understand the magnitude of what you all did. This isn't even the first time you've done something like this. I would have thought that the threat of expulsion and All Might's retirement after Kamino would have sobered you to the dangers and risks of this sort of thing. _I don't care whether or not you regret your actions that day._"

Midoriya shut his mouth, his lips wobbling.

"Not only did you disobey me," Aizawa barreled on. "Not only did you drag your classmates into it, but you've endangered several civilian lives. Even if your scheme had worked, which _wouldn't have changed anything,_ how the _h*ll_ were you expecting the heroes to charge in and detain the villains before anyone was killed? _They have firearms. _Nobody here is faster than a bullet."

The blood seemed to drain from the freckled teen's face, beads of sweat running down his paling face as his shaking knees finally gave out from under him. The underground hero refused to let up. "But that doesn't matter, does it? Because predictably, there were unaccounted for elements, because we don't know everything yet, and now, more than likely, our operation has been set back and even more lives will be lost before this is all over."

Aizawa looked him directly in the eye, no hint of remorse to be found in his steely gaze. "In essence, what you and your classmates have done today is go rogue. In the heroics industry, that is equivalent to vigilante activity. Not only that, what you've all done is not only _illegal,_ but has been detrimental to this operation and could thus be charged as obstruction of justice."

There was a beat of silence before the most broken, heart-wrenching sob that the underground hero had ever heard in his entire life retched out of his student's throat, the kid falling to his side and curling into himself as the weight of everything seemed to hit him all at once. The thought made Aizawa's shoulders ache, but he couldn't afford to be lenient. Not yet, at least.

He just wanted him to _understand. _

_ He needed to understand. _

"I should have you expelled for this." Aizawa seethed, tiredly rubbing his hands over his face. "I should press charges. You should be _arrested._"

Silence fell between the two of them, broken only by his student's muted wailing. He knew the kid was a crier, but he didn't think he'd ever seen him look so..._defeated_ before. He held his tongue, not daring to take back a single word, because he meant every single one. As much as Midoriya was hurting, he _needed_ to hurt. He _needed_ to feel the repercussions of his actions, to face the consequences of his choices, because if they just kept on letting him get away with pulling stunts like this, whether they worked out or not, then he'd never learn.

He'd keep doing it. He'd keep making the same mistakes with the same rose-tinted glasses, because he'd never been told otherwise.

Or if he had, it was at the wrong time by the wrong people.

Still, despite everything, he didn't like how pathetic the kid looked, curled up by himself and crying out of sheer hopelessness and defeat. It didn't suit him, because despite everything, the boy would make an exemplary hero someday.

So long as he was led down the right path, and as a teacher, it was Aizawa's job to do so.

Gingerly, Aizawa moved to sit down next to Midoriya's quivering form. He made no move to acknowledge him, so caught up in his own grief that the world was closed off to him, like his was trapped in his own little bubble of misery with no way out. It was pitiful, and Aizawa hated seeing him like this, even if it was necessary.

Sometimes, the right thing to do didn't feel like the right thing to do.

"I should." he reiterated, a sharpness to his eyes that could only come from years of hardship and tragedy, because that was the sacrifice that every hero made. "I should do all those things...but I won't."

Midoriya's broken cries soon dissolved into hiccups, the boy slowly looking up at him with something that resembled hope, and maybe a little bit of awe. "If something like this ever happens again, I will not hesitate to boot you out of my class and the heroics industry for good, because if I haven't gotten through that thick skull of yours after this, I'll know that you're a lost cause. _Bakugou_ is more respectful of authority than you. _**Bakugou.**_"

Midoriya chuckled at that, slowly pulling himself up off the floor to sit with his arms hugging his knees. Though it was dim, a little bit of light seemed to return to his sullen eyes, even if his smile was still absent.

"I know you have the heart of a hero." Aizawa sighed. "I've seen it with my own eyes. You have potential, even when I once said you didn't."

Midoriya looked oddly conflicted at the declaration, a light in his eyes as he smiled sadly at the ground.

"I also know that All Might's somehow gotten it into your head that getting involved in things you shouldn't is the heroic thing to do."

And that was kicker in all of this, wasn't it? The kid had genuinely believed that he was doing the right thing.

It threw a wrench into everything, because doing the right thing no matter what; Wasn't that the heroic thing to do? Wasn't walking the path less traveled by the noble and right thing to do? That's what many people would say, anyway.

But what if the thing that most people are doing _is_ the right thing?

For some reason, it seemed as if the boy had missed that memo, as if he'd gotten it into his head that inaction was the same as injustice.

But they're not equivalent. Caution doesn't equal complacency or hesitation. Being methodical is not the same as being impassive.

And for the life of him, in all the years of his life, this kid just did not seem to understand that. Had no one taught him such a thing? Was All Might really the first and only person to teach him any kind of heroic ideology?

It was...worrisome.

Of course, none of this meant that the kid wouldn't be punished, and severely at that. If anything, he was gonna regret the day he was born once he was done with him, but he was also starting to get this inkling that authority figures, or at least trustworthy ones, in his life were...lacking, if nothing else.

Because of _all_ kids to have a _rebellious streak,_ no matter how polite...

It left him with a lot of questions, but he pushed them aside for now.

Aizawa gave the greenette one last look over before spoke. "I've decided that I will be suspending you provisional license for an indefinite amount of time."

Midoriya turned to him sharply. "Sensei-!"

"I've already told you what I _should_ be doing." Aizawa warned. "Do not argue with me."

Midoriya backed down quickly, hugging himself tightly with a glassy look in his eyes. For the umpteenth time, Aizawa sighed. "Your license is suspended until further notice, and _you_ will be suspended for the next week and put on house arrest in the dorms for the following week. For that week and how ever many after that I deem fit, you and those of your classmates that were directly involved will be taking remedial lessons with me on the importance of hierarchical protocol. Once I decide that you are ready, you will be required to retake the provisional license exam before you can get your license back. Is all of that clear?"

"Sensei..."

Midoriya looked frustrated, his hands shaking as he stared down at his bright red sneakers, and Aizawa could help the _elation_ that it caused. "Would you prefer that I _revoke_ your license?"

Midoriya's eyes went wide. "N- No, sir!"

"Then stop trying to argue with me and just accept the consequences. You brought this upon yourself. Deal with it."

Midoriya's shoulders deflated, but he slowly nodded, biting his lip. "...I understand."

"Good." Aizawa nodded. "Now, there is a police officer waiting outside that will escort you to the tent where Ashido and Hagakure are currently waiting. Your other classmates will meet you there shortly. Once you get there, _stay_ there. Understood?"

"...Yes, sensei."

Satisfied for the time being, Aizawa nodded again, leading the boy outside where the officer in question was waiting. Midoriya gave him one last, strange look of awe before he was led away, tensing up and folding into himself the further they went. Aizawa merely shook his head with a huff.

Everyone else directly involved, he'd decided, would be put on a week of house arrest and in the same remedial lessons that Midoriya would have to suffer through, Asui and Kirishima included. He was debating giving Asui a shorter house arrest, as being gravely injured could be punishment enough, but he was still on the fence about it. He'd also have to figure out how many other students he'd have to put in detention for being aware of what was going on without telling him, as well as decide for how long. He supposed it would depend on how many of them there were, which was, if his suspicions were correct, most likely all of them.

_What a mess._

"Eraserhead."

Aizawa glanced to the side, meeting Endeavor's fiery glare head on. Off to the side, he could see Todoroki, Uraraka, Sero, and a fried Kaminari being led towards the same tent that Midoriya was. That brought the total of future remedial students up to nine in total.

_Almost half of the f*cking class. _

"These d*mn kids..." Aizawa growled, rubbing viciously at his scalp. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled it back to see a few strands coming loose with it.

His hair wasn't even graying anymore. He was _losing_ it now, _because his brats _couldn't_ and _wouldn't_ stay out of trouble. _

These d*mn kids, indeed.

"I would like to apologize for Shouto's behavior today." Endeavor said simply, a note of aggravation in his voice. Aizawa might have been a little bit more concerned if he wasn't so livid himself. "I will be speaking to him about it later."

"I will, as well." Aizawa responded. "From my understanding, he and several other students were mostly following Midoriya's lead."

"I feel like I should be surprised, but I'm not." Endeavor sighed. "That Midoriya boy has a good head on his shoulders, but he's also All Might's boy."

Aizawa chose not to comment on the wording, lest he give himself an even worse headache. "I will personally be disciplining all guilty parties accordingly, I can assure you." he said. "And I currently have no plans of expelling them, if that's something you were worried about. For the time being, at least."

Endeavor wasn't looking at him, but his features hardened all the same. "I will hold you to that."

"_**ERASER!**_"

Aizawa and Endeavor both winced harshly at the earth-shattering screech of Present Mic's quirk, several other people around them dropping whatever they were doing to cover their ears and brace themselves against the wall of sound that simultaneously slammed into each and every one of them.

Clenching his teeth and ignoring both the head-splitting migraine and the ringing in his ears, Aizawa gave Mic the dirtiest look he could muster. Next to him, Endeavor looked ready to literally bite the loudmouth's head off.

"Eraser!" he yelled again, now at a respectable volume, and this time, Aizawa caught on to the slight twinge of panic in his voice. It was well-hidden, smothered in his forced enthusiasm and masked confidence, but to Aizawa well-trained eye, after knowing the man since high school, there was a blatant waver in his tone that had every hair on his body standing on end.

"_What?_" he growled, unable to hide the note of irritation, because his head hurt, his nerves were frayed, and once this was all over, he was hibernating for the next five years. The other teachers could deal with carrying out his punishments. He wanted to be in a coma for a while.

Present Mic was completely undeterred. "_Eraser,_" he whispered fiercely, and Aizawa felt real fear course through his veins, because Present Mic didn't just whisper. "_We have a situation!_"


End file.
